


lessons for the lover

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, Friends With Benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-06 08:20:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3127640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Girlfriend?"<br/>"Uh, yeah?"<br/>"You mean, girlfriend, as in you're not gay?"</p><p>What?</p><p>"Uh, no? Does it look like I am?" Harry tried to give himself a once over, and Zayn just snorted, shaking his head a bit.<br/>"That's some seriously tight fuck-me jeans, bro," Zayn said, taking another sip from his beer, "Plus, this <i>is</i> a gay bar."</p><p>Oh.</p><p> </p><p>(or the one where Harry and Zayn meet at a gay bar.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lesson One

**Author's Note:**

> i do not own anyone in this, this is unbetaed, written as my insomnia acts up, blablabla, the usual. enjoy!

Harry was happy. He was so fucking happy. It shouldn't mean that much, he had always been easily excitable, but this time, he had every reason to be. He had just moved to LA, and his future seemed as bright as it could ever be. He was fresh out of college, and had gotten a job as an assistant at a trendy art gallery, which had a very nice pay, and made it easier for him to afford a fairly decent place for himself. The only thing that was missing was his girlfriend, Lyla (yes, like the Oasis song), who unfortunately stayed in London.

They were going to try the whole long distance thing, until she could come join him. It was going to be hard, Harry knew, but he thought it was worth it. He was also going to miss his family, but he was already used to missing them, since they still lived in Holmes Chapel, and he had moved to London to go to college. Of course he knew this was different, that he couldn't just get on a train whenever things felt like too much, he knew he was alone, but it was worth the risk. 

It was never that hard for him to make new friends anyway, so. He spent most part of his first day in LA trying to unpack and get things organized, but he ended up sleeping as soon as he put the sheets on his bed. On his second day, he woke up feeling refreshed. So he finished organizing, there wasn't too much stuff anyway, cooked his own dinner, and posted pictures of it on instagram (#1strealmealinla). 

At night, he decided to explore. He showered, got dressed, wearing one of his best black skinny jeans, a black button-up that was mostly see-through (it was LA's nightlife, he didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb!), and let his hair fall around his face in curls that he styled very carefully. He considered grabbing a coat, used to going out in London, but he remembered it was LA, and not London, and he didn't need to.

So he grabbed his keys, phone, walled, and was out the door. Harry walked around for a bit, getting lost in the people, and bright lights, he never felt this alive before. When he felt he had done enough walking for the night, he walked in the first bar he saw.

It was a tuesday night, so Harry didn't expect it to be crowded, which was a good thing, he guessed. The lighting was dim, some r'n'b music was going on, something Harry had listened to on the radio earlier, and there were a few people here and there, mostly guys. 

Harry walked straight to the bar, sat on the stool there, and ordered a beer. He struck up a conversation with the bartender, talking about LA, and how he had just moved in. The guy seemed interested enough, asking questions, and smiling as they talked, which was nice. Harry was going a bit crazy all by himself at his place, he doesn't do so well without having people around.

The bartender excused himself to tend to other patrons, and Harry was alone again, looking around, drinking his beer. He thought about going up to the pool table, and just as he was getting up, someone sat on the stool next to him.

"Looks like you're almost through with that one, mind if I get you another?" the guy said, with a small smile on his face, motioning to Harry's beer bottle with his own. Well, isn't this nice? Everyone's been so nice so far.

"Sure, why not?" Harry answered, smiling.

"Oh, British, are you?" the guy asked, smiling a bit brighter, as he signaled the bartender, asking for two more beers.

"Yeah, just got in yesterday, actually, this s'my first night out."

"Well, let me be the first to welcome you, then! I'm Zayn, welcome to LA," he said, offering one of the beers to Harry.

"Cheers, m'Harry," Harry smiled, accepting the bottle. Zayn clinked their bottles together, and took a sip.

"You alone, Harry, or are you expecting someone?" Zayn asked, looking at Harry from behind his beer.

"M'alone. I mean, alone tonight, here, in LA. For now, just until my girlfriend comes from London," Harry shrugged. The guy, Zayn, raised his eyebrows then. Harry knew he had the tendency to ramble, but he hadn't been that weird this time, had he?

"Girlfriend?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"You mean, girlfriend, as in you're not gay?"

What?

"Uh, no? Does it look like I am?" Harry tried to give himself a once over, and Zayn just snorted, shaking his head a bit.

"That's some seriously tight fuck-me jeans, bro," Zayn said, taking another sip from his beer, "Plus, this  _is_  a gay bar."

Oh.

"I didn't-I didn't know."

Zayn snorted again, "Clearly. It's too bad, we could've had some fun," he grinned, and Harry felt his cheeks flush a bit. Harry was not gay, but he could certainly appreciate beauty in other men, and this Zayn guy was definitely something. Probably even too handsome, and out of Harry's league, if he had been into men. The fact that he was interested in Harry was nothing less than flattering.

"Well, thanks, I guess? And sorry?" Harry laughed, and Zayn did too.

"It's all good. I am gonna have to leave you, though, cause unlike you, I actually came out here looking for someone to take home for the night," he said with a wink. Harry felt like blushing again. 

"Yeah, ok," is what Harry said instead, "Uh. Good luck," he smiled tentatively, as Zayn got off the stool.

"Yeah, you too, man, hope you enjoy LA," he nodded at Harry as a goodbye, smiling in a way that made his eyes crinkle, and Harry found himself smiling back.

He watched as Zayn made his way to the pool table, and started talking to some of the guys that were there, the crinkly smile still on his face. That's excitement enough for one night, Harry thought, and climbed off the stool. He took one last sip of his beer, and left it on bar, along with a tip for the bartender. Harry walked back home, unaware of the pair of eyes that followed him as he left the bar.

 

His first day of work was uneventful. Which was kind of sad, in Harry's opinion. He was expecting crazy phone calls, interesting artists and interesting people. He mostly just fetched coffee for his boss, scheduled meetings, and sat around all day. That pretty much became his routine. Harry would wake up at 8, go for a jog, come home, shower. Get dressed, stop by the coffee shop, get breakfast for him and his boss, get to work. Make phone calls, receive paintings, sign things, attend to meetings, go home. Fix himself some dinner, skype his mom, and Lyla, when both of them had the time, watch some tv, fall asleep.

Almost three months later, Harry wasn't as happy as he was when he first got to LA. He didn't have that many friends yet, he missed his mom, his sister, and his girlfriend, and he was so horny all the fucking time. There's only so many times a guy can find skype sex satisfying. Still, Harry wasn't a quitter, so he stood by it, endured the loneliness and boredom. 

It would take 4 months and a week till Harry saw Zayn again. He hadn't even thought about him after the night they first met, their paths never crossed again, until the gallery Harry worked in threw a party for some of their new artists. Harry quite liked this parties they had from time to time, even though he had only been to a couple of them since he started working there. It was nice seeing his workplace filled with people, Harry thought they were all fascinating, and beautiful. 

He dressed up for it, all in black, letting his hair down, now much longer than when he had gotten to LA, and made his way through the party, sipping on champagne, stopping by paintings that caught his attention, even though he had already seen them before. He saw Zayn before Zayn saw him, and it was nice, seeing a familiar face, even though they didn't really know each other.

Zayn was wearing a gray shirt with a nice floral print, black vest on top of it, and black pants. He looked nice. A few seconds later, Zayn turned around to point at something, then he saw Harry. It must've taken him a few seconds to recognize Harry, to place exactly where Zayn knew him from, but he smiled when he did, tipping his champagne glass towards Harry as a hello. Harry smiled, and did the same. 

He wasn't sure what the protocol was, so he simply went back to admiring the paintings, moving from room to room in no particular order. Zayn found him half an hour later, when Harry was looking at one of the paintings he didn't remember seeing before. It was an abstract painting, filled with colors and intense brushstrokes, Harry liked it a lot.

"Didn't think you'd be into art," was the first thing Zayn said as he came to stand beside Harry.

Harry chuckled, "Appearances can be deceiving. You didn't think I was straight, either."

"You got a point there," Zayn smiled, nodding.

"I majored in Art History, actually."

"Is that so?" Zayn seemed to be surprised, "What d'you think of this one, then?" he asked, pointing at the painting Harry was looking at.

Harry chewed on his bottom lip, thinking, "It's nice. Intense. Makes you feel... Something."

"Good something, or bad something?"

"Good, I think. I'd like it even if it was bad something, it's always nice when a piece makes you...  _feel_."

Zayn stared at him, then smiled, looking pleased, "This one's mine, you know?"

Harry looked at him, as if expecting him to say it was a joke, but Zayn just smiled, looking a bit smug. Harry leaned in, reading the little card next to the painting, and there it was, "Zayn Malik".

"Holy shit, it is yours," Harry laughed in disbelief, and Zayn chuckled.

"Why would I tell you it was, if it wasn't?"

"Dunno. M'just glad I didn't say it sucked, then."

They talked for most part of the evening, and Harry was surprised at how easy the conversation was flowing. Maybe Zayn was just really nice, maybe it was the champagne, who knows. Harry left with Zayn's phone number on his phone either way.

 

Zayn was really nice. After that night, they started meeting up for coffee every now and then, which evolved into hanging out in each other's places, and going out for drinks after work. Zayn introduced Harry to his friends, and for the first time in a long time, Harry was happy in LA. He still missed his family and Lyla, and was still horny 24/7, but he was happy.

So of course things had to go to shit.

It'd been almost 6 months since he hadn't seen Lyla, and a month earlier, she had said she was coming down to visit him. They hadn't been really talking properly to the month leading up to her visit, both of them extremely busy with work, but Harry still thought it was a sure thing. And that's why he was so surprised when 2 days before she was supposed to get there, she decided to break up with him. Like seriously, who does that? 

Lyla said she thought they were drifting further and further apart, and she didn't think it would get to this point, that they'd break up earlier, but she just couldn't fly down just to say it to his face. So that was it. Harry felt so stupid for getting so excited, and for being faithful for so long, specially when Lyla changed her relationship status to _single_ on the day they broke up, then to _in a relationship_ with what's-his-name two days later. There was no way she had just met this guy, which means she had probably cheated on him.

It sucked. Life sucked. Harry didn't feel like doing anything. He felt stupid, and alone, and horny. For a few days, he went back to his original routine, home to work, then back home, avoiding everyone, until he couldn't do it anymore.

It was a saturday afternoon when Zayn came knocking on his door. Harry was in his sweatpants, with a blanket curled around him as he lied on his stomach on the couch, the tv on just for background noise. 

"Come on, Harry, I know you're in there. And I know where you keep your spare key, I'm coming in whether you like it or not," Zayn said from the other side of the door.

Well, if he was coming in anyway, Harry didn't need to get up. A few minutes later, Zayn walked in, stopping by the door to take in the mess that had taken control of Harry's apartment, before closing the door behind him.

"Ok, what's going on?" Zayn asked, taking off his jacket, and hanging by the door.

"Lyla broke up with me," Harry mumbled, refusing to move.

"Ah, shit, that sucks," Zayn said, kicking off his boots, and walking to the couch. He cradled Harry's head in his hands, lifting it from the seat, then set down, placing Harry's head on his lap. "Wanna talk about it?" He asked, running his hands through Harry's hair.

Harry sighed, and settled on his side, nuzzling on Zayn's stomach. This was nice. Warm. "She said we were drifting apart, and that she wouldn't come down just to break up with me, and now she's seeing some other guy, and I'm alone. And horny. I'm so fucking horny, I think I'm gonna die. I haven't had sex in six whole months, d'you have any idea what that's like?" Harry looked up at him, but Zayn just snorted.

"Shouldn't you be going out, then? Trying to find someone to take care of that problem?"

"I don't wanna go out. I feel like shit. I'm too tired to look for someone."

"Too bad you're not into guys, I'd probably be able to help out with that, then," Zayn teased, and Harry felt his face getting warm, like it did the night they met. He had no idea where this came from, he was never this affected by guys. He'd blame it on fact that his sexual life was flat lining, and anything that had to do with sex would probably turn him on a little bit. He hid his face in Zayn's stomach again. 

"You're such a twat," Harry whined, and Zayn chuckled again.

"Don't be like that, babe. Wanna go out? Get trashed?" he asked, still moving his fingers through Harry's hair.

"Don't wanna go out," he whined again. He knew he was being a brat, but Zayn just seemed amused by it anyway.

"Just wanna get trashed?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

"Gonna call the boys over, then, okay?"

"Yeah, ok."

Zayn forced Harry to shower, and put decent clothes on. Harry wasn't very grateful for that, he was perfectly comfortable in his sweatpants, but he felt a little bit better once he was out of the shower. Niall, Liam and Louis came around, bringing beer, and whisky, and vodka. Harry was very grateful for that. They worked themselves into a nice buzz, talked about what happened to Harry and Lyla, and made him see that it could only get better from now on. He was free. Nothing would change, apart from the fact that now he could find someone, someone in LA, someone to physically be with him. It was nice.

What wasn't nice, was the hangover Harry woke up to. He dragged himself out of bed, drank a lot of water, then went back to sleep. When he woke up again, he was feeling much better. And hungry. He sent the boys a text thanking them for the night before, and fixed himself something to eat. He thought about what they'd said to him the night before, and realized that they were right. He'd be okay.

 

Harry got back on his feet earlier than he'd have imagined it. It was really easy to do, actually, once he noticed that in fact, he had been single all along, he just didn't know about it. Lyla and him hadn't been talking that much in the last couple of months, anyway. It was just easier to rely on that, it was comfortable. They'd been together for over 4 years now. It would've probably hurt more if they had broken up as soon as Harry moved to LA, but this way, this way it had been almost like a transition, their feelings slowly fading until there were none. This was just making it official.

So two weeks later, Harry was ready. He was ready to explore LA's nightlife as a single 22 year old man. That, and there was another thing Harry felt like exploring: men.

He had never really thought about it, coming from a small town, where you know, this sort of thing wasn't really something that happened, then getting into a relationship as soon as he got into college. 

He had had gay friends in college, even went out to gay clubs with them and all, but, well. He had been with Lyla right from the beginning, she was always with him, there hadn't been too much time for him to think about how his eyes would linger on guys he thought were fit. He always assumed it was just because he found beauty in a person regardless of the gender, that's not that uncommon,  _specially_  for an Art History major.

But now, the more he hung out with the guys, the more he thought about it. Liam and Niall were straight as an arrow, but with Zayn being gay, and Louis being into both guys and girls, Harry had gone to his fair share of guy bars and clubs, and now that he was allowed, he had started to think about how he always blushed whenever Zayn teased him, and how maybe there was something there. 

 

"We should go out tonight," Harry said, when Zayn picked up the phone.

"Sure, why not? Got any place in mind?"

"Can we go to that place, the one where we met?"

Zayn was quiet for a few seconds, then he snorted, "You remember that's a gay bar, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So I thought this was about getting you back on the horse or something."

Harry took a deep breath, "Well... It kind of is."

Zayn paused for a few seconds again, then, "You wanna get with a guy?" Harry could practically see his raised eyebrows.

"Maybe," he admitted, a bit shy, now.

Zayn snorted again, "Well, alright, I'm gonna call the guys, then."

"Great!" Harry said, thankful that Zayn didn't push.

 

That night Harry got himself into one of his tight pants, kind of like the one Zayn had once referred to as "fuck-me pants", even though he had no intention on actually getting fucked that night, and a simple black knit jumper that fit him just on the right side of loose. He was just in the middle of styling his hair when Zayn knocked. Harry yelled at him to let himself in with the spare key, and Zayn did, walking to Harry's bedroom to see what he was doing.

"What, no sheer shirts tonight?" Zayn asked as he found him, leaning against the door frame to Harry's bathroom, looking at Harry's reflection on the mirror.

"Nope. Got my fuck-me pants on, though," Harry grinned, and didn't miss the way Zayn's gaze traveled down his body, to his ass, legs, then back up to his face, grinning. Harry's insides did something funny.

"That, you do, my friend, that you do," he snickered, looking at Harry for a few seconds more, then pulling away, falling back on Harry's bed, putting his hands behind his head, "So, you gonna tell me what's this about or what?"

Harry waited a moment, just to make sure he wasn't flushed, then joined him in the bedroom.

"I don't know, I just--I never had the chance to explore this... side of me, and I think I might like it?"

Zayn just looked at him for a beat, like didn't really understand it yet, but then he shrugged, "Ok, then. You ready to go?"

"Yeah, let's go."

 

The bar looked really different on a friday night. There were people everywhere, the music was louder, but the lights was just as dim. They soon found Louis and Niall in a booth, Liam couldn't make it because he was out on a date.

"You're the last ones to get here, so the next round is on you guys!" was the first thing Niall said to them, grinning.

"I'll go," Harry said, not to eager to answer questions about why he had chosen the bar, thinking maybe it'd be best if Zayn did the talking for him, "beers, everyone?" He asked, looking around the table. The boys nodded, so he made his way to the bar, taking the opportunity to look around at his options. When he went back, 2 beers in each hand, Louis and Niall were looking at him with knowing smiles. "Don't say anything, just help me, yeah?" Harry said, handing a bottle to each of them and sitting down.

"Don't worry, Harold, we'll find you a really nice rebound," Louis said, tipping his bottle as if he was making a toast, before taking a sip.

"Yeah, you'll be getting bathroom blowjobs in no time," Niall said, and Louis poked his side with his elbow.

"Don't be crass, Nialler, we're not all like that."

Niall frowned, then snorted, "Oh, yeah, like you weren't the king of blowjobs in inappropriate places. Think I forgot that one time with you and that barista at Starbucks?"

Louis opened his mouth, then closed it, and shook his head, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, right."

Harry didn't know what his exact thoughts on bathroom blowjobs were, so he just laughed along with Niall and Zayn. Sure, it'd be nice to get one, after all this time with just his hand, but what would he have to do in return? Like, it's not like he knew what to do, he only knew what felt good for him. Would that feel good for the other guy too? Anyway, it was too soon to be thinking about that, so forced himself to focus on his beer.

 

Harry spent the first three hours working himself up to a nice buzz, and laughing at the guys' possible choices for him. All of them were obviously awful, they were just pointing random guys out to tease him, but it was still fun. They played some pool, then Harry went back to the bar to get another beer while Louis and Niall were shooting darts, and Zayn went out for a smoke. He was so busy trying to get the bartender's attention, that he didn't even notice when someone leaned against the bar by his side.

"Mind if I get you that one?" came a voice from his left, startling him, and the guy laughed when he realized what he'd done, "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"No, no, it's okay, I was just distracted," Harry smiled, once he got over the initial shock. This guy was really good looking. Seemed like he was older than Harry, the lines near his eyes told as much. He was taller too, had a strong build, and a nice beard going on.

"Oh, good, so, mind can I get you a drink, then...?" the guy asked, grinning, waiting for Harry to tell him his name. Ok, Harry was going to do this. So he took a deep breath, and grinned back, nodding.

"Harry. And yeah, sure."

"Great. I'm Ben, by the way," he said, still grinning, and he whistled rather loudly to get the bartender's attention. It'd worked. He ordered two beers, then looked back at Harry, "You here alone, Harry?" Ben asked, and Harry thought about how that was how he met Zayn.

"Got some friends around--" Harry paused, searching the room for the guys, then shrugged, "around here, somewhere," he laughed.

Ben nodded, smirking a little, "Anyone that's gonna be mad to see me with you?"

"No, no one like that," Harry chuckled. Ben seemed pleased.

 

They talked for awhile over that beer, Ben asking about where Harry's from, and what did he do for work, then telling Harry he was a director, he shot music videos, and some commercials. Harry also told him about how he had just come out from a long term relationship, and how he wasn't even sure about his sexuality. Ben said it was nice, that we all needed a little figuring out, specially after not being just yourself for so long. Harry smiled at him for it.

Zayn came back inside on some point, and it didn't take too long for him to spot Harry and Ben by the bar. Harry didn't miss the way his face went blank for a minute when he saw them, like he was surprised, like he didn't really think Harry would go for it. Then he put on a small grin, and made his way to Louis and Niall.

Harry didn't really understand what that meant, but he didn't have much time to think about it, because Ben was getting closer and closer to him, kept touching Harry's side, squeezing it a little, and it was making Harry squirm. It was weird. Harry could feel something inside him telling him to move away, to make Ben stop, to not give in to the feeling he might have felt in school, or in college, the one he always felt when Zayn was slightly flirty.

But he could also feel himself pushing closer to Ben, leaning into his touch, and soon enough he was touching back, touching Ben's chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt. Ben didn't seem to mind it. He actually was basically pressing Harry against the bar with his body, and that felt good. Someone who was bigger than him, who could possibly hold him down, and-ok, too soon for that.

Still, he curled his fingers in Ben's shirt, and pulled him closer, till Ben got the message, and leaned in. He placed a hand on Harry's waist, smirking as he brought their faces together, right up until their lips met.

It was weird. Ok, maybe not weird, but, different. Ben's beard scratched Harry's face lightly, his touch was insistent, pressing Harry against the bar with his own body as he deepened the kiss. Slowly, but surely, different started to feel really good, after Harry got over the initial shock of 'hey, I'm kissing a man'. He moved his hands up Ben's side, enjoying the feel of the muscles there, while Ben moved a hand up the back of Harry's neck, threading his fingers through his hair. Harry has always loved when people played with his hair.

Harry was a bit breathless when they broke apart, and a little bit too turned on, if he was being honest. Ben ran a hand through his hair one more time, and smiled.

"You good, or was this enough for you to decide this is not for you?" he grinned, rubbing his thumb across Harry's cheek.

"Oh, this is definitely for me," Harry answered with a dimpled grin.

"Good, cause I'd like to see a lot more of you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Wanna give me your number?"

 

So Harry left the bar that night with Ben's number on his phone, a very drunk Niall and a very drunk Louis, and a rather quiet Zayn. They shared a cab, talking about Harry's hook-up until there was nothing left to say. They dropped the drunkies off at their apartments, while Harry invited Zayn for a nightcap. Harry went straight to his room to get out of those tight pants, putting on a pair of sweats, and a simple white vest, before going back to the living room.

When he got there, Zayn had already fixed them vodka sodas, and was sitting on the couch, flipping though the channels on the tv. Harry sat beside him, taking a sip from his drink quietly, before turning to Zayn.

"You're really quiet," he said, taking another sip.

"Am I?"

"Yeah. Did something happen?"

Zayn took a long sip, then shrugged, "Guess I'm still kinda stunned by tonight. Didn't really think you'd go for it, with a guy like that, nonetheless."

Harry chuckled, "Who d'you think I'd go for?"

"I don't know... Maybe one of those artsy-hipstery guys you see at the gallery all the time," he shrugged again, with a small teasing smile on his face.

"Someone like you, then?" Harry teased back, and it was fun, seeing the way Zayn blushed, knowing he could also get Zayn like that.

"Don't be stupid," he snorted, and hit Harry with one of the couch pillows, "I'd like to think I'm more of the artsy-mysterious type."

Harry blocked the pillow attack, laughing, and maybe it was the good night he had had, or maybe it was liquid courage, who knows, "I'd probably go for you, y'know?"

Zayn snorted again, taking another sip from his drink, then looked at Harry, "Why didn't you, then?"

Harry didn't know if Zayn was back to his teasing self, or if he really wanted to know, but still, "You didn't ask," he shrugged, grinning. Zayn looked at him, apparently a bit surprised by Harry's honesty, but then he just smirked.

"Good to know." Zayn finished his drink in one go, then got to his feet. "I'm gonna go, but we should check out that place with the good chinese food tomorrow, so give me a call when you're up for it," he said, making his way across the living room.

"Yeah, alright," Harry nodded, watching him go. Zayn gave him one last smile, then he was out the door.

 

Harry had been seeing Ben for almost three weeks now, and he felt a lot like a grown up. He had a job, an apartment, friends, and was dating a guy who was a lot like a grown up himself. Things between Harry and Ben were good. Ben wasn't looking for a serious relationship either, they met when they could, or wanted, and that was it.

He'd pick Harry up from work to go out to dinner, or would sometimes take him to posh parties, then they'd go back to Harry's place for snog or a handjob. He almost never spent the night, but Harry didn't question it, he didn't want to seem too clingy so soon, even though he missed someone to cuddle in his post-orgasmic haze.

But ok, it was still good. Harry still had his boys, and he could always go to Zayn, or call Zayn over when he was feeling particularly lonely and Ben wasn't texting him back. Zayn, by the way, had been an amazing guide as Harry ventured through the world of gay sex. Well, Harry hadn't had actual sex yet, hadn't even had a cock in his mouth, but still. Zayn was always there with thoughtful opinions, and no judgment.

Which is why Harry went to him when he decided he was ready to give Ben a blowjob. Shit, he was going to suck a cock. The thought both scared, and excited him. He was absolutely terrified he'd do something wrong, like accidentally bite Ben's cock off, or choke and throw up, or  _something_ , he didn't know what to expect. So, for pure scientific reasons, purely for practice, and not because he had thought about it more than once already, he decided he'd ask for Zayn's help.

"So, I was thinking," Harry said, over beers when they were at Zayn's place, "I think it's time I sucked Ben's cock."

Zayn looked at Harry like he was trying to remember just how they got to that conversation, then he snorted, "Well, good for you. And for Ben, of course."

"Yeah. But see, here's the thing: I don't know how to do it." He stalled, because there's probably no smooth way to ask for someone to teach you how to suck cock.

"I see," Zayn said in a questioning tone, like he was asking for Harry to get to the point.

"So I was thinking maybe you could like, teach me?" Harry asked, feeling his cheeks heating up, suddenly very interested in peeling the stamp on the beer bottle. He could feel Zayn staring at him in silence for what it felt like forever, until Zayn finally spoke up.

"Harry, if you wanted me to suck you off, you could at least have bought me dinner, what kind of guy do you think I am?" he teased, unsure if he should take Harry seriously.

Harry chuckled, more out of nervousness than anything, "No, I was thinking that like, maybe I could, you know, do it to you, and like, you could give me pointers or something?" He shrugged, and finally glanced at Zayn. Zayn looked like he was surprised, with his mouth kind of hanging open, and almost laughing, like he was waiting for Harry to tell him it was a joke.

When Harry didn't say anything else, he closed his mouth, then opened again, "Tell me again, how did we go from you being straight, to you asking me to suck my dick?"

Harry huffed out a breath, and rolled his eyes. This was already embarrassing enough, he didn't need Zayn taking a piss. 

"You know what, nevermind, forget I said anything," Harry said, getting to his feet, and going to the kitchen to set the beer bottle on the counter. Zayn laughed like he always did when Harry got exasperated, and went after him.

"No, Harry, come on, are you serious about this?" he asked, standing in Harry's way.

"Yes, m'bloody serious, Zayn! God only knows how many people Ben's been with, I don't wanna embarrass myself, ok?"

Zayn laughed at him again, "I love it when you go all British on me," he said, still smiling like Harry was adorable, and it was pissing Harry off, so he rolled his eyes again. "Well. Alright then."

Harry raised his eyebrows, "Alright?" Zayn nodded, the oh-Harry-you're-adorable smile still on his face, like Harry being flustered amused him. "Oh. Hm. Okay, then."

"Okay. Come on," Zayn said, nodding towards the living room, and started walking, not looking back to see if Harry was following him.

Harry took a few deep breaths to calm himself, ran a hand through his hair, then went after him, sitting beside him on the couch. He fiddled with the tear on his jeans, feeling a lot awkward.

"So, uhm. Should we like, kiss, or should I just... You know, go for it?" Harry asked, looking pointedly at Zayn's crotch, then back to his face. Harry could feel his cheeks burning.

"Well, if you're not going to buy me dinner, you could at least kiss me first," Zayn smirked, but made no attempt to move towards Harry. He was clearly going to make Harry work for it, show him he wanted it, and Harry's heart was starting to hammer in his chest. He moved a bit closer to Zayn on the couch, and lifted a hand, hesitating a bit, not knowing where to put it, until he finally settled for touching Zayn's face.

"Okay, so. Uh, yeah," he said, and licked his lips as he leaned in, feeling a little bit better about himself when Zayn's eyes followed the movement. Zayn ended up licking his own as well.

Kissing Zayn was a lot different than kissing Ben. Zayn let Harry set the pace, gave way easily when Harry's tongue traced the seam of his lips, and sighed prettily into his mouth.  His beard tickled Harry's face much like Ben's did, but his lips were softer, and fuller. It was slow and sweet at first, but Harry started to get antsy as Zayn's hands started to roam and grip his sides.

Harry leaned into Zayn even further, one hand on the back of Zayn's neck, the other on his shoulder, and Zayn pulled him closer, kept pulling till Harry was straddling his lap. The kiss grew heated then, a little more of lip biting and hair pulling involved. Harry loved it, moaned lowly into Zayn's mouth. Zayn moved his hands up Harry's back under his shirt,  then back down, dragging his blunt nails across Harry's skin, making him hiss into the kiss.

Harry didn't even know when it happened, but before he knew, their shirts were off, and Zayn's hands were on Harry's ass, pulling and pushing him down against Zayn's hard cock. Harry felt hot all over as he kissed and bit every piece of skin he could find, starting to roll his hips against Zayn's, delighted at the sounds Zayn was letting out.

But as good as all of this was, Harry had other things in mind when this started, so he moved his hands down Zayn's body, hooking his fingers on Zayn's sweatpants, and started to pull it down, pushing himself into a kneeling position on the floor between Zayn's legs with as much grace as he could muster. It wasn't much, but Zayn didn't laugh at him, so that's a win.

Zayn lifted his hips a bit as Harry pulled his clothes down, taking deep breaths to try and steady his breathing. It was good to see he looked as wrecked as Harry felt.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Zayn asked, running his hands through Harry's hair, giving him a chance to back out if he wanted. Harry nodded, and licked his lips as he looked at Zayn's cock. It was a nice one, not as thick as Ben's, or Harry's, but it had a nice size to it, it fit Zayn very well.

Harry ran his hands up Zayn's thighs, and looked up at him, waiting for an instruction or something, anything. It took Zayn a few seconds to understand what Harry was waiting for, he probably forgot why were they doing this in the first place.

"Oh, uhm. Just, you know, do what you want first, like, just mind your teeth and we'll be fine," he laughed a bit breathlessly, still playing with Harry's hair, trying to comfort him.

Harry nodded once more, and moved closer, holding Zayn's cock in one hand. He licked around the tip first, trying to get acquainted with it, before trying to focus on repeating what he liked being done to him. He licked it from root to tip, then mouthed at the head a bit, before slowly sinking down, feeling a shot of arousal go through him when Zayn's fingers tightened in his hair. 

He knew better than to try and swallow everything down in one go, so Harry started to bob his head up and down slowly, trying to keep it wet, and the slide easy. Harry looked up when Zayn started whispering encouragements, and failed to fight down a moan when he saw how good Zayn looked. Zayn had his eyes closed, his head leaning against the back of the couch, the muscles in his stomach tightening as he fought the urge to buck his hips up.

That spurred Harry on, made him feel this incredible urge to make Zayn lose it. The fact that he felt that way didn't even surprise him, Harry had always been a people pleaser, and nothing turned him on more than seeing how good he could made someone feel. So he sank lower, took Zayn in deeper, till his lips touched his fingers around the base of Zayn's cock.

"Oh, fuck," Zayn grunted, and pushed up, gagging Harry a little bit, "Shit, sorry, sorry," he laughed, a little bit out of himself. Harry coughed slightly, and took a few breaths, shaking his head.

"I can do it, just-don't move," Harry said, moving his hands to Zayn's hips to hold him in place, and took Zayn into his mouth again, going down, until he felt Zayn's tip hit the back of his throat. Now that he new what was coming, he could fight back his gag reflex (even though there wasn't much to fight, his gag reflex was almost nonexistent, thankfully), forcing himself to relax around Zayn's cock, breathing through his nose. 

"Holy fuck, Harry,  _fuck_ ," Zayn panted, looking down at Harry in awe. Harry hummed in appreciation, then pulled off, breathing in hard. "Shit, you're a natural," Zayn said, letting out a breathy laugh, and that made Harry laugh too, "Should've known, with those dick sucking lips of yours," he teased, running his thumb over Harry's bottom lip. Harry could only imagine how red and puffy his lips must've been. He bit down on Zayn's thumb playfully.

"Rude," Harry said, grinning.

"It was a compliment!" Zayn laughed again, then chewed on his lip thoughtfully, "Wanna fuck your mouth. Can I?" he asked, with a devilish grin that made Harry's insides turn upside down, and his cock throb in his pants. He'd probably say yes to anything Zayn asked, if Zayn smiled at him like that while asking. _Hey, Harry, help me hide a body?_ Sure.

"Yeah, do it," Harry nodded, and opened up for him, keeping his hands on Zayn's thighs to keep himself grounded. Zayn pushed in again, and pulled Harry's hair back from his face so he could watch his dick moving in and out of Harry's mouth. His thrusts were shallow at first, letting Harry get used to the feeling of just taking it.

Harry had no idea he'd like it that much, the weight of a cock on his tongue, Zayn's hands in his hair holding him still, using him to get off. He was loving it, palming himself through his jeans, sucking and humming around Zayn. Zayn started getting bold, pushing in further and faster as he noticed Harry was getting more comfortable, and as Zayn himself started losing control.

Zayn went faster, his thrusts more erratic, letting out these breathy sounds, until he finally grunted out a "oh, fuck!". He tried to pull Harry off and away from him, but he wasn't fast enough, like his orgasm had creeped on him and took him by surprise, making a proper mess out of Harry, coming in Harry's mouth, spilling a bit on his cheek and chin.

"Argh, cheers, mate, really," Harry laughed out after he swallowed what was in his mouth, surprised at how husky his voice was. Zayn just laughed, too spent to actually care.

"Sorry, bro, it sneaked up on me," he said, leaning back against the couch, giddy and relaxed, reaching for his shirt and handing it to Harry. Zayn pulled his clothes back up, as Harry cleaned himself, and let his head rest against the inside of Zayn's knee. He felt Zayn petting his hair, and smiled, feeling weirdly calm, even though his cock was still hard as ever in his pants. "That was really fucking good. Ben is a lucky man," Zayn said, smiling stupidly. Harry decided he liked post-orgasm Zayn.

"Thanks," he said, adjusting himself in his pants before he stood up. Harry meant to go sit on the couch, but Zayn pulled him by the wrist back onto his lap, still grinning. Zayn held Harry's face in his hands, and brought him closer for a kiss, pushing his tongue against Harry's, and sucking on his lip, tasting himself. Harry ran his hands through Zayn's hair as they kissed, thinking about how nice and soft it was under his fingertips.

Then he felt Zayn's hands unbuckling his belt, unzipping his jeans, and he pulled away, "You don't have to-" he said, because well, it was nice of Zayn to return the favor, but in the end, Harry had asked for it, he didn't really need to reciprocate. Zayn just cut him off by shaking his head. 

He lifted his hand, palm towards Harry's face, "Lick," he ordered, so Harry did as he was told, feeling his insides do that weird flippy thing when Zayn smirked at him. Then Zayn pulled his underwear down with his dry hand, and wrapped the other around Harry's cock, smirk growing deeper as he gave it a few slow tugs. "Shouldn't even have asked you to lick it, look how wet you are already," he whispered, free hand on Harry's hip, as he looked down between them.

Harry gasped, fingers gripping the back of Zayn's neck. He just had to close his eyes, or it would get too much, too soon. The hand Zayn had on his hip moved down to his ass, squeezing it, pulling him close, then pushing him away, until Harry started fucking into his fist on his own. Harry held on to the back of the couch for leverage, breathing hard against Zayn's shoulder, as he listened to Zayn whispering words of encouragement, as he urged him to come.

And he did, with a soft cry, his body trembling slightly as he released over Zayn's hand and abs. Zayn stroked him through it, running a hand up and down Harry's back, pressing soft kisses on his neck. Harry stayed in place as he tried to get his breathing back to normal, then flopped down on the couch next to Zayn, running a hand through his hair.

"We're even now, uh?" Zayn said with a teasing smile, gesturing to the mess Harry left. Harry laughed, poked him with his foot.

"Shut up," he said, and tucked himself in as Zayn cleaned himself with the same shirt Harry used earlier. "Uh, thanks, by the way," Harry said, not quite sure what the protocol was, but it wouldn't hurt to cover all bases. He closed his eyes, feeling sated and relaxed.

"No problem. Let me know if you feel like practicing again," Zayn said, and Harry could hear the smile on his voice, like he was trying not to laugh. Harry poked him with his foot again.

"Mind if I stay the night? Don't know if I can move just yet."

"Can you at least move to the bedroom? Cause I'm not carrying you."

"Yeah, that I can do," Harry laughed, and forced his limbs to function.

 

Later that night, as Zayn slept beside him, Harry wondered if things would change between them now. Things between Ben and him were working just fine, with the whole no-commitment thing, but knowing Zayn the longest, Harry couldn't help but to feel things between them were more intimate. He never had a friend with benefits before, and he wondered if bringing sex into their friendship could somehow ruin things. 

After being in a serious relationship for so long, Harry couldn't stop himself from connecting sex to feelings. He'd be lying if he said he couldn't feel himself growing more attached to Ben the longer they saw each other. It would be only natural to fear feeling the same towards Zayn. He already cared so much for him, after just months of being friends, god knows how he'd feel now that sex was in the equation.

But Harry also thought about how different his life was now, so that maybe this time, things wouldn't get complicated.

And if Zayn woke up with Harry between his legs, well. He did offer to help him practice.


	2. Lesson Two

It was a Thursday night, and Harry and Ben were going out. There was this party Ben had been invited to, and Harry loved going to parties with him. Ben wasn't too affectionate or touchy when they went out, always kept their interaction very PG. Just a friendly hand on Harry's back, light squeezes on his wrist every now and then, maybe a few whispers in his ear. 

Harry would probably complain, if he didn't practically pounce on Harry once they were alone. So yeah, he was excited for tonight. 

He checked the clock, 8:30 pm, which meant he had about 30 minutes to finish up on getting ready. He dressed up nice, like he always did when they went to these events, tamed his hair, and gave himself one last look in the mirror, deciding he looked quite alright. He thought about calling Zayn for a quick chat, but decided against it. They hadn't talked since Harry had asked him for the whole blowjob lesson, and he would probably be freaking out, if he hadn't talked to Liam a couple of days back.

"I dropped by earlier, but he pretty much kicked me out. He's painting, so he does that sometimes. Gets in the zone, or something like that. He'll come back when he's done getting rid of whatever's got him inspired," Liam told him. So, ok, Zayn wasn't just ignoring  _him_ , which is good. He really missed Zayn, though. Anyway, Harry didn't have much time to think about it, because Ben got there 10 minutes early, so he had to run out the door.

 

The party was good, filled with B-list celebrities, and a few A-listers, even. Harry tried real hard to contain his excitement. They moved around Ben's circle of friends, Ben keeping his distance, as always, but Harry could see the way he'd look at him sometimes, could see that glint in his eyes. Good.

Two hours later, they stumbled back into Harry's apartment, Ben pretty much tearing the clothes off his body. They probably would've stayed longer at the party, if Harry didn't have to work early the next morning, but he was sure that nothing he'd be missing out by leaving would be as good as the way Ben was pressing him against the wall, rutting up against him.

Harry pushed him back, kept pushing until Ben was sitting on his couch's armrest, his shirt hanging open from his shoulders. Harry slid to his knees, fingers working on Ben's belt, unzipping his trousers, and pulling it down with his briefs. He looked up at Ben and grinned, as he took him in his hand, giving it a few tugs, feeling him hard and warm against his palm.

"A little eager, are we?" Ben asked, a smug smile on his face.

Harry giggled, and gave him a rough tug, making Ben hiss, "Shut up."

"I have a feeling you'll be the one too busy to talk in a few seconds," Ben said, carding his fingers through Harry's hair, and pulling his face closer to where he wanted. Harry thought about stalling, making him work for it, but Ben was right in his face, and he really was dying to get his mouth on him. So he did. He licked at the tip for a bit, then wrapped his lips around it. Ben let out a groan that went straight down Harry's spine, making him shiver.

Pretty much like he always did, Ben took control after a few minutes, intertwining his fingers on Harry's hair, moving his head up and down, setting the pace, choking him on it a little bit. By the time he came, Harry was already a fucked out mess, cheeks and chest flushed, lips puffy and red, eyes watering a little. He made Harry swallow it all, holding him in place and telling him to keep sucking, until he got too sensitive and pushed him away. 

Harry had only a few seconds to take a few deep breaths, before Ben was hauling him to his feet, kissing him as he moved them to Harry's bedroom. Ben undressed him, and spread him out on the bed, sucking a few bruises on Harry's skin before actually sucking him off. He did it fast and determined, pulling off for a bit to lick at Harry's rim, but just enough to get it wet, before pushing a finger in.

The thought of having something inside him turned Harry on more than the actual intrusion. Ben kept fucking his finger in and out as he blew Harry, his fingertip sometimes brushing on  _something_  inside that made Harry's toes curl, but never putting enough pressure to push him off the edge. In the end, it was Ben's words of how tight Harry was, and how he couldn't wait to feel it around his dick that made Harry come, his back arching off the bed, and a drawn out moan leaving his lips.

 

Ben never stayed for too long after they got each other off, just long enough for their breathing to get back to normal, and for him to fix his clothes. He'd always say "Thanks for the night, kid," kissed Harry on his forehead, and left. After Harry heard the front door click shut, he laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling sated, but slightly empty. He wished Ben would stay, wished to be wrapped by Ben's body until he fell asleep. Still, he was alone, so there wasn't much to do. He got up, took a shower, and slipped under his sheets, hugging one of his pillows, and fell asleep.

 

The next day was pretty much uneventful. Harry spent the majority of the day on facebook, or texting his sister. At night, he texted the boys, asking what they were up to, and they invited Harry for a night in at Louis', with pizza and FIFA. Harry wasn't that good on video games, so he decided to stay in, have an early night. He was still kinda tired from staying up late with Ben, and having to go to work early in the morning, so it was probably for the best. 

He showered, fixed himself a sandwich, nothing too fancy, and read in bed for a bit. Harry fluffed the pillows around for a few minutes, he always liked to surround himself with the pillows, so he wouldn't feel so alone, and checked his phone one last time before turning it off. The boys had sent him the most hilarious pictures of their night in, and they weren't even drunk yet. He smiled, and set his phone aside, falling asleep quickly.

Harry was startled to consciousness, when he felt someone putting an arm around him, ready to kick, or punch whoever it was, until he heard a "Relax, it's just me," coming from behind him. Zayn. Harry always forgot Zayn knew about the spare key. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and relaxed, melting into Zayn's warmth.

"Nearly scared me to death," Harry mumbled, turning around in Zayn's embrace so he could face him, nuzzling into Zayn's chest. Zayn chuckled, and it was like the sound of it vibrated all over Harry's body.

"Sorry, didn't want you wake you," Zayn whispered, his fingers finding their way into Harry's hair.

"What you doing here, anyway? What time is it?" Harry asked, pulling back a bit to check the clock, but Zayn just held on to him tighter.

"Around 3 or something. I just missed you."

Harry smiled, and pulled Zayn closer, rubbing the tip of his nose on Zayn's neck, "Missed you too. Thought you were angry at me."

"Not angry. I just do this sometimes, sorry."

"It's ok. Just let me know before you do it again, yeah?"

Zayn chuckled again, and nodded against the top of Harry's hair, "Promise. Now go back to sleep."

"Alright."

Harry was out before he knew it, Zayn's steady breathing and his fingers in Harry's hair lulling him to sleep.

 

Harry woke up at 8, as usual, and left Zayn in bed to go for his morning jog. He almost didn't, when he saw how beautiful Zayn looked, face pressed against the pillow, his hair soft against his forehead, eyelashes fanning over his cheekbones, breathing peacefully. But he forced himself to leave, before he started thinking about how nice it'd be to wake up to a face like that, Zayn's warm body beside him.

He did think about Ben, though, as he ran around the block a few times. About how Ben never stayed, about how he didn't know what Ben looked like in his sleep. He didn't know if Ben was a cuddler, if he stole the blankets to himself, if he snored or not. Maybe this non-commitment thing wasn't such a good idea. Maybe if they got more serious, Ben would stay.

When Harry got home, Zayn was still asleep, because of course he was. Harry showered, put on a pair of sweatpants, and climbed back in bed, this time curling around Zayn, his back to Harry's chest. He pressed his nose to the back of Zayn's neck, and breathed in. He smelled faintly of paint, and smoke, and Zayn. Harry fell asleep again.

The second time he woke up, Zayn wasn't in bed anymore, but Harry could hear him moving somewhere in the kitchen, and he could smell coffee. He got up, and followed the sounds, smiling as he watched Zayn chewing on a piece of toast, leaning on his hip against the counter, phone in his other hand. 

"Hey," Harry said, moving around to get himself a cup.

Zayn looked up, and smiled, "Hey. Have you seen this?" he asked, grinning.

"My phone is off," Harry said, filling his cup with coffee, and walking towards Zayn, stopping by his side so Zayn could show him.

"They got so fucking trashed, god," he laughed, as he pressed play on a video. Niall was doing this weird macarena-like dance in just his underwear,  Louis' laughter as background noise, while somewhere behind Niall, Liam was asleep with half of his body hanging from the couch, his face covered with drawings of dicks.

"God, they're ridiculous," Harry laughed as well, shaking his head. Zayn put his phone back in his pocket, and looked at Harry, as Harry took a sip from his coffee.

"What you wanna do today?" He asked, smiling softly. Harry shrugged.

"Dunno. Could go for a Friends marathon and a cuddle."

"Sounds good," Zayn agreed, still smiling, making Harry smile too.

"But you gotta shower first, you still smell like paint," he teased, earning him a gentle shove from Zayn.

 

He did shower, though, and borrowed some clothes from Harry. They didn't quite fit him, hanging loose around his body, but he looked good anyway. Harry was starting to think there was no look that Zayn couldn't pull off.

They settled in Harry's bed, and started watching Friends, Harry's arms around Zayn, Zayn's head to Harry's chest, his fingertips tracing circles over Harry's side. They were into their fourth episode when Zayn's grip on Harry's waist tightened a bit, and he ran the tip of his nose along the column o Harry's neck, kissing it softly. Harry closed his eyes, and took a deep, long breath.

"Is this okay? Do you want me to stop?" Zayn whispered against his skin in between kisses.

Harry shook his head, held on to him tighter, "It's okay, don't stop," he whispered back, and angled his face down, searching Zayn's lips with his own. Zayn tilted his head up, and then they were kissing. Slow and lazy, like they had all the time in the world to just taste each other. Zayn slowly moved them so he was laying on top of Harry, starting to trail kisses down Harry's neck. 

Harry had his eyes closed, so he missed the look on Zayn's face when he stopped and pulled away.

"When did you see him?" he asked, and it took Harry a few seconds to understand what he was talking about. Harry noticed a mark on his neck earlier, one that Ben gave him. It made him smile at the time, but now he just felt like hiding.

"On thursday," Harry answered, closing his eyes again because he didn't want to see the look on Zayn's face. Zayn just hummed in response, biting over the bruised skin lightly.

"Did you suck him off?" he asked, moving down Harry's body, tongue darting out to tease Harry's nipple. Harry arched his back, and nodded. "Did he like it?" Zayn tugged Harry's nipple between his teeth. Harry moaned, his fingers finding Zayn's hair, pulling on it, nodding again. "Did he come on your face?"

Harry shook his head, as Zayn moved to pay attention to his other nipple, "My mouth," he breathed out, pulling on Zayn's hair a bit tighter.

"Then what?" Zayn asked, pressing his hips down against Harry's.

"He sucked me off too. Licked me out for a bit, fingered me," Harry moaned, as Zayn kept moving down, licking and biting all over Harry's skin.

"Did you like it?" He mouthed over Harry's cock through his sweatpants, and seriously, did he really want to have a conversation about Ben right now? How the fuck was Harry supposed to think straight when Zayn was pulling his sweatpants down, licking over the tip of Harry's cock?

"I-I don't know, I guess,  _shit_ ," Harry panted, already breathing hard, pushing his hips up seeking friction. Zayn pulled away to take off Harry's clothes entirely, throwing them to the side.

"You either like it, or you don't," he said, running his hands up Harry's thighs, "Can I try it?"

Harry was definitely way past coherent thought, so he had no idea what Zayn was talking about, he just needed Zayn to do something, and not just brush his thumbs over the V where Harry's thighs and hips met.

He shook his head, trying to focus, "What?"

"Lick you out. Finger you. Whichever. Can I?" He repeated, looking down at Harry with dark eyes, and that grin that made it very hard for Harry to say no. And by very hard, Harry meant impossible. Like he would ever say no to that.

"Why are you even asking me this, just do  _something_ , please," Harry pleaded, trying to pull Zayn against him again. Zayn just snorted at Harry's desperation, leaning in, and started nipping at Harry's thighs, his stubble scratching the sensitive skin, sending shivers down Harry's spine.

Zayn placed his hands on the back of Harry's thighs, and pushed them up, "Hold'em up like that for me," he told Harry, waiting for him to do as he was told. Then the lifted Harry's hips a bit, spreading him apart with both hands, licking a stripe from his rim to his balls. It felt... wet. And Harry felt incredibly exposed, all spread out and open like that, so much so that he even felt a bit dirty. Which was good, Harry liked it dirty, liked to make a mess. 

When Lyla and him started fucking around, it was just like that, they'd fuck everywhere, anywhere, whenever they could, two kids enjoying the thrill of being in college, and living alone, and in love for the first time. But as time went by, responsibilities started to pile up, their sex drive wasn't the same anymore. They settled into a comfortable routine, so it'd been awhile since Harry felt like this, like his skin was on fire, his whole body thrumming with anticipation, and want.

Zayn started to lick him out properly, tracing his rim with the tip tongue, sucking it lightly between his lips, tongue dipping in for a second, then pulling back. Soon enough it didn't just feel wet, it was driving Harry crazy, his nails digging into the meat of his thighs as he held himself up and open, Zayn dragging whimpers out of him with his tongue and lips.

Harry's thighs started trembling, and he wasn't so sure if it was because he was getting tired from holding himself up like that, or because his whole body could be shaking too, but Zayn noticed nonetheless, and pulled off.

"Wanna turn around for me, babe?" he asked, running his hands over Harry's thighs and bringing them down to rest on the bed for a bit. Harry opened his eyes to look at Zayn for the first time since he'd started, and fuck, if it wasn't one of the hottest things Harry had ever seen. He was breathing hard, his lips were red and wet, his cock outline visible through Harry's sweatpants, long and hard.

Harry forced himself to look away, and his limbs to function, turning over, laying on his stomach. Zayn took hold of his hips, and pulled them up, so Harry was propped on his knees and elbows. He spread Harry open again, pointing his tongue, and pulling Harry back into his face, starting to fuck him with his tongue. Harry couldn't do anything but to hold on to the sheets tightly, face pressed hard against it as he tried to muffle his moans into the mattress. 

Zayn pulled away again sooner than Harry expected, and he should be embarrassed by the whine he let out, but he was too far gone for that. But then Zayn's tongue was replaced by his thumb, and Harry was pushing back against him again, panting.

"You got any lube?" Zayn asked, circling Harry's rim with his thumb, pushing just a bit, but not enough to breach it, and Harry just  _wanted_. He shook his head, and whimpered again when Zayn moved away. Harry didn't look back, but he could hear Zayn moving around. He took the opportunity to try and get his breathing back to normal, running a hand through his hair that was now sticking to his forehead with sweat.

After what it felt like forever, Zayn came back, settling on his knees between Harry's. Harry heard the sound of something being ripped open, then he felt one of Zayn's hands on his left ass cheek, kneading the flesh there, before pushing it to the side, and one of his fingers from his other hand was circling his rim again, wet and slippery.

"Tell me if it hurts, if you want me to stop, okay?" he said, and Harry just nodded, fighting the urge to just push back. Zayn started pressing his index finger in, slowly, but surely, and the burn wasn't as bad as Harry remembered it to be. Maybe because this time they had real lube, and Zayn had already opened him up a bit with his tongue. He made a mental note to buy lube.

Zayn kept pushing till he was in to the third knuckle, then he stood still, letting Harry get used to it. Then he started moving in and out slowly, running a soothing hand up and down Harry's back, "Good?" he asked, curling his finger in, and Harry groaned, because  _yes_ , that was good. "Gonna add another one, ok?" he warned, pulling his finger out, and pushing back in with his middle finger next to it, and ok, this time it hurt a little bit.

Harry hissed, clawing at the sheets, and Zayn stopped, "Too much?"

"No, just... just," Harry shook his head, trying to find his words, but apparently he forgot how to speak.

"Just breathe through it, and relax. Push back a little," Zayn told him. Harry tried to do as he was told, breathed in deeply a couple of times, and started pushing himself back, willing his body to relax and let Zayn in. "That's it, look at you," he whispered, and Harry hummed in response. Zayn bent over him, pressing kisses to his back, as he went back to fucking Harry with his fingers slowly. Harry felt stretched, and full, but he still wanted more, started pushing back harder, and when Zayn curled his fingers again, Harry saw white.

"Fuck," he groaned, arching his back, "again, do that again," he pleaded, and Zayn did, kept pressing down on that spot that made Harry see stars, and left him a whimpering mess. He was close, he could feel it, the warmth spreading through his body, coiling up low in his belly, he just needed a little bit more, just--he reached down, curling his fingers around his cock. Just a few more strokes, and that was it, Harry was letting out a drawn out moan, spilling all over his hand and onto to sheets, whole body shaking with it, before falling down on the mattress, not even caring that he was over the wet spot.

"Shit, that was amazing," Harry gasped, feeling his heart hammering against his ribs. Zayn laughed, and moved up Harry's body, kissing all the way to his shoulder, pressing his hips down against Harry's ass.

"See? You either like it, or you don't," he said, starting to move his hips, letting Harry feel how hard he still was, rutting up against him.

Harry forced himself to push his ass further up,  "Get it out, wanna feel it," he said, making Zayn groan. Zayn pulled away to take the rest of his clothes off, then moved back up Harry's body, sitting on top of Harry's thighs. He pressed the length of his cock against the cleft of Harry's ass cheeks, still wet with all the lube he'd used earlier, sighing as he started to rock back and forth, pressing Harry's cheeks around himself.

Harry pulled a pillow closer, settling it over his folded arms, and pressed his face into it, feeling his cock twitch with interest every time he felt Zayn's tip brush against his rim. He could hear Zayn starting to breathe faster as his movements picked up speed as well. He leaned in again, keeping his elbows by Harry's shoulders, and himself trapped between Harry's ass and his own stomach.

Zayn started moving more forcefully, the sounds of skin on skin filling the room, and Harry couldn't stop himself from letting out these breathy  _uh uh uh_  sounds with each of Zayn's thrusts. 

"Such a nice ass, babe," Zayn whispered against the shell of Harry's ear, biting on Harry's shoulder.

"Yeah?" Harry asked, pushing his hips up, moving against Zayn. Zayn nodded into the back of Harry's neck, humming in response. "You should fuck it sometime. Should fuck  _me_ ," Harry blurted out shamelessly, 'cause well, he already had Zayn's tongue and fingers inside him, he wasn't above begging for more. But before they could actually get to that, Zayn was grunting out a  _fuck, Harry_ , spilling all over the dip of Harry's back, warm and messy.

Zayn held himself up on trembling arms for a few seconds, before falling down beside Harry, breathing hard, with his eyes closed. Harry watched him with a grin on his face, somewhat proud that the thought of them actually having sex was what pushed Zayn over the edge. When his breathing was almost back to normal, Zayn opened an eye to peek at Harry, and snorted.

"Don't look so smug, you idiot," he snorted, laying on his side, propping his head in one hand, running the other through Harry's hair, "You can't just say shit like that, fuck," he laughed, leaning in to bite on Harry's arm teasingly.

"I didn't just say it, though, we could've been having sex right now if you hadn't blown your load like a bloody teenager," Harry teased back, and Zayn just snorted again.

"Yeah, all over your pretty back," Zayn smirked, moving the hand from Harry's hair to run his fingertips through the mess he left on Harry's back.

"Filthy," Harry said with a scolding tone, but he grinned when Zayn brought his coated fingers to Harry's mouth, sucked them clean looking into Zayn's eyes.

"Takes one to know one," was all Zayn said, before pulling Harry in for a kiss.

 

The next few weeks pass by in a blur. Harry kept seeing Ben, and fooling around with Zayn at the same time. He told Ben about Zayn, and if he didn't like it, he didn't let it show. They kept meeting up randomly, for coffee, or lunch, Ben kept taking him to his posh parties; they pretty much always met on Ben's terms, when he was available, but they saw each other constantly, and Ben was getting more affectionate with him in public, so Harry didn't really mind. And Ben more than made up for it when they were alone, so.

Harry also asked Zayn if he was really ok with all of this, with them fooling around when Harry was also seeing someone else, and Zayn just mumbled something about being a helping hand, distracting Harry with a terrible pun. They obviously had been spending too much time together, Harry's sense of humor was starting to rub off on him. But they _were_ spending a lot of time together, really. They didn't even hook up everytime, sometimes they'd just get together to order chinese food and watch tv. Zayn disappeared for a few days a couple of times to paint, but he always let Harry know beforehand, so he wouldn't freak out like he did the first time.

Before Harry knew it, Christmas was coming around, and he bought tickets to go home and visit his family. The boys threw him a going away party (like he wasn't just going to be away for a week or so) two days before he was actually leaving. Which of course ended with Niall drunk off his ass, Louis high as a kite, Liam passed out on the couch, and Harry and Zayn getting each other off drunkenly in the bathroom.

 

On the night before Harry had to leave, he decided he should go out with a bang, pun intended. So he called Ben over, cooked them dinner, and made sure he had enough lube, and condoms. Dinner went by nicely, they talked, drank wine, and Ben complimented Harry's food, before they moved things to the bedroom. They undressed slowly in between kisses, falling in bed with Harry on his back, and Ben over him, settling between Harry's legs, their hips moving against each other as the kisses grew heated.

Harry pulled away when he got too impatient, wanted more, and searched through his bedside table, pulling out the lube, and the condom, chewing on his bottom lip as he looked at Ben. Ben raised his eyebrows, holding back a smirk.

"You gonna let me fuck you tonight, Harry?" he said, leaning in to pull Harry's lip between his teeth, reaching for the lube as Harry nodded.

Ben moved down Harry's body, tasting his skin, making Harry squirm beneath him. He took Harry into his mouth as he opened him up with coated fingers, slowly working his way up to three fingers, until Harry was dribbling precome into his mouth and babbling nonsense, begging for it. He pulled off then, rolling the condom on himself, and Harry onto his hands and knees. 

Harry gasped as he felt the tip of his cock breaching in, but willed himself to relax and let him in, breathing in and out slowly, as Ben kept pushing in until his hips were flushed again Harry's ass. 

"Okay?" Ben asked, holding himself very still, his hands big and warm on Harry's hips, his thumbs tracing small circles there.

Harry let his head hang against his chest, holding tightly onto the sheets, and nodded, "Yeah, just... so deep," he mumbled, and gave an experimental roll with his hips, trying to get used to it, to really feel it, then he nodded again, "Okay, move."

Ben started with tiny movements, barely pulling out before pushing in, letting Harry get used to the slide, to stretch even further, and it didn't take too long for that burning feeling Harry was getting to dull, to burn in a different way, turn into something better, something that had Harry chasing that flare, waiting for it to explode and consume him. Harry began to push back, to move with Ben, arch his back, and moan loudly as Ben snapped his hips faster and harder. It was overwhelming, Harry couldn't keep himself up anymore, slid down to his elbows, bit down on the pillow to try and keep quiet. 

Ben pressed Harry's hips further into the mattress, fucking into him relentlessly, hitting that sweet spot everytime, the force of his thrusts making Harry's cock drag against the sheets, the friction so good, Harry couldn't stop cursing. And then he was coming, hard and unexpected, leaving him shuddering and breathless. Ben fucked him through it, chased his own high, and a few seconds later, he was grunting out Harry's name, spilling into the condom.

Harry hissed when Ben pulled out, letting himself fall down on his stomach, always somewhat useless after coming. Ben went to the bathroom to toss the condom away, and when he came back, he sat on the edge of the bed beside Harry, gloriously naked, running a hand through Harry's sweaty mess of hair.

"You okay, kid?" he asked, sounding amused. Harry smiled at him dopely, well fucked out, and tugged on his arm.

"Come back, lay with me," he pouted, tugging on Ben's arm till he laid back by his side, throwing his arms around Harry. Hmm, yes, that's good. Harry sighed happily, curling himself around Ben, and fell asleep.

 

When Harry woke up, he was sore. His back hurt from bending over for too long, and that's not the _only_ thing that hurt. But it wasn't the bodily discomfort that woke him up, it was the fact that his bed felt way too empty. He sat up, blinking the sleepiness away, and okay, no need to panic yet, he might be in the bathroom. Harry stood up, checked the bathroom, no Ben there. He walked to the kitchen, no Ben there either. Fucking really? He didn't even wake him up to say goodbye?

Harry went back to his bedroom and picked his phone up, sending Ben a text, saying " _Thanks for saying goodbye, you twat_ ," and set it aside. He showered, got dressed, and when he checked his phone again, there was a text from Ben (" _don't be mad, wanted you to get some sleep before your trip. see you when you get back x_ "). Harry was still mad nonetheless, even told him so (to which Ben replied saying he'd make up for it when Harry got back).

Harry took a cab to the airport, and as he sat down for his over ten hour flight home, he realized that  _going out with a bang_  was probably not a very good idea. Oh well, what's done is done.

 

Harry always loved coming back home. He knew that he wasn't meant to live in a small town, not when he was this young anyway, but coming back after living in a crazy big city for so long was very refreshing. Harry spent his days in a mix of talking to his mom and his sister, baking, and sleeping a lot. Basically just recharging. He told them about everything that had happened over the last few months, about his job, and the boys, about Zayn, and Ben. His mom, the amazing person that she is, was completely okay with the fact that he was now involved with a man, even though she wasn't too fond of the no-commitment arrangement they had. 

He also visited his friends from school, his old job at the bakery, and on Christmas Eve, he skyped the boys back in LA to check on them, and wish Louis a happy birthday. He already missed them so much, it was ridiculous. Christmas day was incredible, as always, and Harry ate so much he thought he'd be sick. He instagrammed a picture of himself wearing a silly red Christmas jumper (which the boys all  _liked_ ).

On the 29th, Harry went to London to meet up with his friends for New Year's. He'd also see Lyla for the first time since he moved away. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a bit nervous, but he was also kind of excited. Harry went straight to his friend's, Ed, house, and they spent half the night talking about their lives, and what they'd been up to. They played a few songs as well, Ed playing the guitar, as Harry sang along with him. He instagrammed a video of that as well, which Niall commented on, cursing Harry for not telling him he could sing, and demanding they'd do a jam session sometime.

The next day, they went out for pints at one of their favorite pubs, and that's where Harry saw Lyla again. She still looked good, as good as she did when Harry left, her blond hair shiny and silky smooth, long legs that went on for miles, and a bright smile that made Harry's heart ache a bit.

"Harry!" she squeaked when she spotted him, jumping into his arms, clinging to his neck. She still smelled the same, too. Harry held on to her, holding her close.

"Hey, Lyla," he said as they pulled away, smiling even though he was freaking out a bit.

"Bloody hell, look at your hair!" she said, tugging on it gently, "It looks really good, I like it," she nodded in approval, still smiling.

Harry let out a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair, "Thanks," he smiled at her, "you look really good too," he said, gesturing towards her, earning himself another bright smile.

"Why, thank you! C'mon, let's get us a drink, and you can tell me all about your exciting life in LA!" she said, dragging him to the bar.

As the night went on, it was easy to believe that Harry had never left. They were all sitting in a booth, Lyla tucked under Harry's arm as they chatted animatedly, and drinks kept coming from god knows where. Harry soon found out that Lyla was single again, which at first made him hyper aware of how careful he'd have to be to stop things from happening, he did not need to get into anything with her again, but now that his brain was fuzzy and foggy, it didn't really seem like a bad idea. Y'know, just once more for old time's sake and all. 

And thank god for Ed being there, because when Lyla asked him to go home with her, he almost did. But Ed intervened, whispered to him something about how he'd go back to LA soon, about how them being away didn't work out all that well the first time, and yes, thank you, Ed. So Harry declined politely, told her they'd see each other again the next day for the countdown, and went home with Ed.

Harry woke up with a terrible pounding on his head, and he had no idea how he'd get through another night of partying, but well, it was New Year's, so he'd just have to power through it. Ed found them a house party to go to, so they got dressed, and went out. The place was already packed when they got there, people were drinking and dancing, Harry's head felt like it was about to explode. He decided to get a drink, or twenty, maybe if he was drunk, he'd go numb.

And he was right. A couple of hours later, he was comfortably buzzed, talking to everyone, and laughing. He tried to keep as much distance as he could between himself and Lyla to avoid trouble, but it wasn't that easy. There was a reason they were together for so long, and it was because they were really good as a couple. They found each other easily in a crowd, they did shots and danced, took a bazillion pictures, and Harry almost wondered if he should come back, it was all so easy here.

But then he thought of Ben, and Zayn, and the boys, and he knew he couldn't stay away from them anymore. So 5 minutes to countdown (or at least he thought he had 5 minutes), Harry excused himself, and found a quiet spot at the balcony, taking out his phone, calling Ben on facetime. He tried two times, but he didn't answer. He called Zayn next. It was nowhere near close to countdown in LA, so it probably wouldn't be too crazy over there, calm enough for him to take the call.

And he did, giving Harry that stupidly adorable grin, the one where the corner of his eyes wrinkled, and his tongue pressed behind his teeth. 

"Well, hello there!" Zayn greeted him, grinning still. He was at his place, everything quiet apart from The 1975 playing in the background. Harry smiled, he was the one who showed them to Zayn. "What you doing, aren't you supposed to be partying or something?"

"I am!" Harry said, moving his phone around so Zayn could see the party going on behind him, then moved the phone back, "5 minutes to countdown, I wanted to be the first to wish you a Happy New Year!"

Zayn chuckled, "How much did you drink already, babe?"

"M'not drunk, I just miss you, can't I miss you?" And yeah, when Harry started getting all affectionate, it usually meant that he was drunk, but whatever, he was allowed to tonight.

"Sure you can," Zayn nodded, amused by Harry's state, "I miss you too, but you'll be back soon enough, right?"

"Yep!" Harry chirped, "I'll be flying home in two days."

"Good. So how's everyone back there?" he asked, lighting up a cigarette, sitting down on his bed.

"Good, it's all good. Ed says he's going to LA next month, I'm excited for you guys to meet him. I think he'll get along really well with Niall, actually, and-" then the balcony door opened, letting out the sounds of people counting down, and a somewhat drunk Lyla came through, shouting "Harry!", jumping on him like she always did, and full on kissing him. Harry kind of kissed back, it was only natural for him, having her lips on his, then the shock of what happened settled in when they pulled away. Lyla just smiled, and said "Happy New Year!", before going back inside the same way she came out, out of nowhere.

Harry just stared at the door, until he heard Zayn clearing his throat. Right, Zayn was still waiting on the line.

"Uh. Sorry about that," Harry said, feeling kind of embarrassed, even though he didn't really know why. Maybe it was because he never really did kiss anyone in front of Zayn, apart from Ben, but anyway, he didn't want to think about that now.

"Was that Lyla?" Zayn asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah, she's--she's here too."

"You two getting back together or something?"

"No, it was just... Y'know, New Year's kiss," Harry shrugged. Zayn nodded, seeming thoughtful.

"No old feelings being rekindled?" he teased, smirking, but there was still something off about his tone. Harry chose not to think about that as well, his brain wasn't really working.

"No, nothing like that."

"Hm. Well, I'll let you get back to your party, gotta get ready for mine. Don't do anything I wouldn't do, alright?" Zayn said, and this time the teasing felt more natural.

"Alright mom, same to you. Have fun, see ya soon!" Harry waved for the camera, and ended the call after Zayn waved back. He took a few deep breaths, and went back to the party.

He spent most of the night drinking water, and dodging all of Lyla's attempts at flirting with him with a joke, or a hug, all thoughts of getting back together, or moving back home gone after seeing Zayn. When he got to Ed's palce carrying a drunk Ed over his shoulder, Harry was already incredibly sober, and somewhat proud of himself for his self-control.

On his last day in London, his friends threw him a goodbye party. Lyla showed up, and asked to talk to him in private, right before he had to leave.

"Hey, so hm. M'sorry if I came on too strong over the last few days, yeah? I just--I missed you. And seeing you again messed with my head a bit," she laughed, looking down at her feet. She has always been so adorable.

Harry smiled, and shook his head, "Messed with mine a bit too. But we're good, yeah? As friends?"

"Yes, we are," she looked up at him, smiling a bit brighter.

"You should come visit me next month, with Ed, then."

"Sounds like a plan," she nodded, and threw his arms around him.

 

When Harry landed in LA, he was feeling good. He felt like all his loose ends had been tied, he was well rested, and ready to take on the new year. He also couldn't wait to see everyone, and to take Ben up on his promise of making up to him. Which is why he decided to surprise Ben at work around lunch time, maybe they could grab something to eat and snog in his car or something.

He dressed up nicely, took a cab, and went up to his office. He'd never really been there before, apart from meeting him in outside the building. It was a nice, big office, took up almost an entire floor, individual offices separated by glass windows and doors. Harry stopped by the front desk, greeting the secretary with a smile.

"Hello, I'd like to see Mr. Winston, please," he asked.

"And you are...?"

"Harry. Styles," he added, for good measure. She probably had arranged enough reservations for them to know who he was.

"Oh," she hesitated, suddenly a bit nervous. This was weird. "Uhm, Mr. Winston is with his wife, right now," she said, poking at her nail polish.

What? This was wrong.

"His... wife? Winston, Ben Winston?" Harry asked again. She just nodded, chewing on her bottom lip, and pointed towards one of the offices, Ben's office.  And that's when Harry saw him. Ben standing next to a woman with long dark hair, smiling, with a hand on the small of her back. Harry was staring, he knew he was, but he really didn't care. He just couldn't believe his eyes, and he had no idea what to do. Should he storm in and yell at him? Show his fucking _wife_ what kind of man she was married to? Or should he just leave, disappear, never take his calls again?

Harry didn't have the time to decide, because Ben spotted him then, the smile leaving his face all at once along with all of his blood. Ben became pale as a ghost as they stared at each other from across the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update will be up in two weeks, maybe less if I get enough time! :D


	3. Lesson Three

Harry had to move. He just had to get away. And yet, there he was, feet stuck to the ground, eyes glued to Ben's. Then Ben seemed to have woken up, mumbled something to the woman standing next to him, his _wife_ , smiling through gritted teeth, and started walking, moving towards Harry. That startled Harry's feet into action, and he moved too, but towards the elevator, he didn't want to deal with this right now, or ever, for that matter. He just wanted to disappear, forget anything had happened.

Harry pressed the elevator button frantically, looking at the numbers above the door, as if they'd move faster by sheer will. He looked back at Ben, he was getting close. Fuck it, he thought, and walked towards the stairs, fast. He skipped two steps at a time, but it wasn't fast enough, because the stairwell door was bursting open, and Ben was coming after him.

"Harry, please, stop, let's talk about this," he asked, coming down to meet Harry.

"There's nothing to talk about, Ben," Harry said as he came to a halt, turning around to look at Ben.

"Don't say that, come on," he pleaded, trying to reach for Harry, but Harry pulled his arm away before Ben could touch him.

"No, seriously, like, what the fuck, Ben?! Now I feel like I should've seen it coming, but shit," Harry laughed grimly in disbelief, running a hand through his hair. Everything was falling into place, all the nights Ben wouldn't stay, why he always kept his distance in public, why he'd never take Harry to his place. Harry couldn't believe how fucking stupid he had been. 

"I never meant for you to find out this way," Ben said, with an apologetic look on his face. Harry felt like punching him.

"You never meant for me to find out at all!" Harry raised his voice without even realizing it, and Ben looked up the stairs worriedly. "I should go back. I should go to her, and tell her what her precious husband is doing behind her back, you know? But I won't," he added as Ben opened his mouth to protest, "I'll keep my mouth shut, but I never  _ever_  want to see you, or hear from you again."

Ben opened his mouth again, but Harry just shook his head, "Don't fucking say anything to me. I don't wanna hear it," he gritted out, brows furrowed, hands curled into fists by his side, "Now you're gonna turn around, and leave me the fuck alone. For good. Delete my number, forget my address, don't look for me, ever again. Alright?" he said, incredibly proud of how stern his voice was, for someone who felt like crying.

Ben just stared at him for a few seconds, and Harry stared right back. Then his shoulders dropped in defeat, and he nodded. 

Harry kept looking at him, still trying to understand how he could've been so blind, then he shook his head. "Fuck you, Ben. Really, fuck you." And with that, he turned around, and kept going down the stairs, not looking back.

 

When Harry reached the streets again, his head was spinning. He felt pissed off and bewildered. Actually, he was so stunned, he started to feel numb. Harry wondered around, retracing all the steps in his mind, since that first night he met Ben. All the signs were right in his fucking face, how the hell could he have missed it? The more he thought about it, the more he realized he'd been blinded by all the shiny things Ben kept dangling in his face. All the fancy parties, dinners at expensive restaurants, and the sex, holy fuck. 

Still, in the end, Harry had been fooled. He'd been stupid, and blind. It was all so fucking ridiculous, such a star-struck young man fucking cliche. Big city, bright lights and all that. Fuck. He needed a drink. And a dark hole to throw himself in.

Harry walked until the sun went down, and his legs hurt. He thought about calling the guys, about calling Zayn. But he felt too stupid to tell them what happened. So he just went home instead, going straight to bed, laying alone in the dark, staring at the ceiling. 

Harry didn't really sleep that night, just drifted in and out of consciousness. That's how his next days went by, as well. He turned off his phone, and locked himself inside his apartment, ignoring everything around him. It was probably selfish, he knew, the guys knew he was back already, and they were probably looking for him, but Harry never claimed to be a selfless person. Maybe that was karma coming for him, who knew. 

No, that's probably not it. That's another selfish way to try and rid himself of his responsibility of what happened, but whatever.

On a sunday night, there was a loud knock on his door, which Harry was determined to ignore. His phone was still turned off, he was comfortable under his covers, and he wanted nothing more than to be left alone. He had no such luck, though, because it was Zayn, and Zayn knew how to get in with his spare key.

"Harry?" He asked as he let himself in, walking around looking for Harry, until he found him in his room, "Yo, what the fuck, man, you trying to get us all worried?" he asked, taking off his jacket and throwing it on top of a chair by Harry's dresser. "Why didn't you pick up your goddamn phone?"

Harry winced, pulling the covers over his head, "I'm stupid. I'm so fucking stupid, I shouldn't be around people," he whined.

Zayn stopped by Harry's bed, then he sat beside Harry, pulling the covers down to his chest, "What are you on about?"

Harry sighed, and looked at Zayn, "Ben's married."

Zayn raised his eyebrows, "What?"

"Please don't make me say it again," Harry whined once more, trying to pull the covers back over his face, but Zayn wouldn't let him, he just stared at Harry, trying to understand. After a few seconds, he let out a quiet 'well, shit." Harry nodded in agreement, because what else could he do?

"And this is all because of that? I thought you guys weren't that serious."

"We weren't, but like... Shit, y'know? We'd been seeing each other, and all this time, he had been lying to me. I just feel really stupid for not seeing it earlier, and... Argh."

Zayn stared at him again with pursed lips, like he was trying to find the words to say, "Well. It's probably for the best. I never really did like him. He never hung out with us, or whatever, always thought it was kinda fishy that he left you all alone like that all the time."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"You never asked, now, did you?"

And he was right. Harry only asked for sexual advice, or for Zayn to keep him company when he was alone. Selfish, selfish, selfish.

"I hate myself," he concluded, making Zayn chuckle. "I'm glad my distress amuses you," Harry pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

Zayn chuckled again, "I'm sorry, ok? What can we do to make this better? Wanna get trashed again?" he asked, running a hand through Harry's hair.

"Nah, just wanna lay here. Gotta work tomorrow, anyway."

"Alright, then," Zayn said, toeing off his shoes, and climbing under the covers with Harry. He absolutely did not deserve Zayn.

 

After a few weeks of kicking himself in the head, Harry decided he needed a change. He realized he made the wrong decision by trying to get into a new relationship so soon after ending things with Lyla. He needed to try and be by himself for awhile, figure himself out as just Harry, after being HarryandLyla for so long, then being HarryandBenandZayn. So he quit dating, and quit fooling around with Zayn as well.

They still remained friends, of course, and clearly there was always this sexual tension building around them. He'd still sleep over at Zayn's, or Zayn would sleep at his; they still cuddled a lot, and their touches and hugs lingered a lot longer than during interactions with any of the other guys, but Harry was determined to stop being so selfish. He wasn't going to use Zayn as an emotional (or sexual) crutch anymore. 

He started doing yoga in the mornings, instead of jogging, he was eating a lot healthier, reading a lot more books, and a couple of months later, he even got a promotion, after his boss decided to work for another art gallery. He was now a curator, thank you very much. There was a lot more work now, and Harry was happy to be so busy, it made him feel productive. He also moved to a new place, a better one.

It was nice, being able to decorate it just like he wanted, now that he had money to afford different things. The guys helped him move in, after Harry promised them beer and pizza. Zayn helped him pick out a lot of stuff for the new place too, took Harry to different flee markets, and quirky little shops he knew Harry would appreciate.

Those were the days Harry enjoyed the most, when Zayn would show up at his house with a different destination everytime, and they'd just lose themselves in the city, Zayn tugging him along. He also ended up putting one of Zayn's paintings up on his living room wall. (What? Zayn was a brilliant artist! And oh, Ed and Lyla still hadn't been able to come and visit him like they said they would, but Harry had given them the full tour over skype.)

Sometimes Harry and Zayn would just go out for a walk, or Zayn would take him to check out new artists, friends of his, mostly. And then Harry would feel it. That tug coming from inside him, inside his chest, that feeling he had been trying to avoid at all costs. It's just that... Zayn was amazing. He truly was, there was no other way to describe it.

He wasn't as loud as the other boys, but he always had a way to make himself known. He was passionate and dedicated to the things and people he cared about. He was smart, he knew about art, and he always laughed at Harry's jokes, no matter how ridiculous they were.

So yeah, when they were out, and Harry was listening to Zayn talking so intensely about a particular painting, or when they were alone eating something Harry made for them, Harry felt his heart swell up with joy, then ache when he forced himself to push those feelings away, to put them in a box and hide it under his bed. Because Harry and Zayn were friends. That once just helped each other out, as Zayn once said. Just friends.

 

Even though Harry had this problem of his growing crush on Zayn, everything in other aspects of his life was working perfectly. So of course it had to go to shit at some point, because that's what happens in Harry's life.

Zayn had gone missing once again, but Harry didn't really think something was wrong at first, thinking Zayn was just in the zone, all locked up to paint like he always did.

Then a week went by, and Zayn still hadn't come around.

Hm.

Then a few more days went by, and Harry saw him in the background of a picture on Niall's instagram, taken on what it looked like one of the bars they went to.

Harry had no recollection of being invited. And before he could say anything to Niall, when he try to check out the picture again in the morning, it had already been taken down.

Weird.

Then more days went by, and it was the opening night of the first exhibit Harry had been in charge of, and all of the boys stopped by. All of them, except Zayn.

Weirder.

Harry had had enough. 

"Ok, so when are you guys gonna tell me what's going on?" Harry cornered Niall before he left the art gallery. He was the only one of the guys who was still there; Louis had left with someone he met that night, and Liam had gone home with his girlfriend, but Niall could never turn down an open bar, hanging around till the night came to an end. It was probably for the best, Harry felt Niall was usually the most candid one out of them all. Still,

"Uh, what you talking about?" Niall said, suddenly incredibly interested in one of the paintings.

"I know Zayn isn't away to paint anymore, I saw that picture the other day, and he's not here tonight. He hasn't answered my calls, or my messages, so what's going on?"

Niall finally looked at him, brows slightly furrowed, like he wasn't sure if he was supposed to say something, or maybe like he was expecting Harry to let it go. Harry just stared at him, unrelenting. 

"Ok, fine. I'm not supposed to say anything, but Zayn's too stubborn, and you're too dumb, apparently--no, you are," he said, when Harry was about to protest, "See, the thing is. Zayn likes you, ok?"

Harry cocked an eyebrow, "Uh. I like him too, so?"

Niall rolled his eyes, "No, he's like, in love with you, or something."  What?  "He has been for awhile now, and like. I think he was kind of hoping you'd finally do something once you were done with the whole Ben thing, and after all the time you guys were spending with each other, but you didn't, and like. I don't know, it just got too hard for him, I guess? Like, being around you, and shit."

Harry blinked a few times.

"Don't look at me like I'm crazy, it's not my fault you're blind. We all knew about it. We would've said something earlier, but we always kinda thought you'd get your shit together and realize you like him back, but then you didn't, so. I don't know, we just tried to be there for him," he shrugged, like it was nothing.

Harry blinked again. "No, that's-- That's not right,  _I_  like Zayn."

"Fucking finally!" Niall said, like Harry had just realized it, and Harry shook his head.

"No, I  _know_  I like Zayn, I've known that for awhile now, he's the one who doesn't like me back," Harry said slowly, as if trying to explain something to a child. Niall blinked a couple of times. Then his shoulders dropped, and he rolled his eyes.

"And you still try to say you're not dumb, for fuck's sake, Harry! Why do you think Zayn hasn't been with anyone lately? Have you seen his fucking face? God knows I'm only into the ladies, but even _I_ am a little gay for Zayn. He spends all of his free time with you, basically. He fucking laughs at your jokes!"

"My jokes aren't that terrible," Harry pouted.

Niall just shook his head, finishing his drink in one go, "Point is, Zayn's love with you, and you're in love with him, so what the fuck are you still doing here?"

Good point.

 

Harry left his assistant (he has a fucking assistant now! a new Harry in training, hopefully one with an easier love life) in charge of closing the gallery, and took a cab to Zayn's place. He nearly tripped over himself as he climbed the stairs to Zayn's floor, cursing the broken down elevator, until he was standing in front of Zayn's door, knocking on it probably loud enough that the whole floor would hear it.

He heard Zayn's footsteps approaching the door, then Zayn saying "I swear to god, if this is you, Louis, I'm gonna punch you in the--" then he opened the door, and stared at a breathless Harry, "Harry," he said, sounding, and seeming surprised.

"You like me," Harry blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Uh, yeah, of course I like you, Ha--"

Harry interrupted him, sounding as surprised as he actually was, he still hadn't been able to wrap his head around everything, "No, you  _really_  like me." 

Zayn blinked.

"Oh."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, this chapter was shorter than the others, and I'm sorry for it, but I kind of hit a writer's block. so i decided to post this before i ended up dropping this fic or something. let me know what you guys expect for the next (and possibly final) chapter!


	4. Lesson Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [here](http://youtu.be/8Uk-u0R81d8?t=31s) is the Friends scene Harry thinks about earlier in this chapter.

"Oh," Zayn said, face blank, stunned.

"Yeah. You do, right? Cause I-Oh," Harry interrupted himself, because there was someone coming around from behind Zayn, buttoning his shirt, and asking if that was the pizza guy. "Oh, hm, you know what, forget about it, I shouldn't have come here, I," Harry could feel his head spinning as he looked around, looking for an escape.

"No, Harry, you don't have to-"

"No, no no, don't worry, yeah, I'll talk to you later, hm, bye," he nodded, both at Zayn, and what's-his-name, and turned around, going straight for the stairs. It's a miracle how Harry made it to the first floor without tripping over himself and rolling all the way down. He was too late. Zayn had fallen for him, and Harry had been too blind to realize it in time, and now he found someone else, and fuck. Fuck fuck fuck  _fuck_. 

By the time Harry got to his place, he was sulking. He had gone through the shock phase, and now he was positively annoyed. At himself, and at what's-his-face. What did he have that Harry didn't? Apart from not being completely oblivious, of course. In his haste, Harry didn't get a good look at him, but maybe there just wasn't much to catch his eye, in the first place. Harry noticed he had blond hair (unlike Harry), brown eyes (once again, unlike Harry), but he was just as tall. Completely ordinary. Not that Harry was a god given gift, but whatever.

Ok, so maybe Zayn wanted a change. Maybe he didn't even want to remember Harry, or think about him, or anything. Maybe that guy was one of his artist friends. Maybe he had more in common with Zayn than Harry did. Maybe he's nice, and smart, and funny. Like, actual funny, and not Harry-funny.

Well, whatever it was that he had, it was enough for Zayn to forget Harry over the last couple of weeks. Harry should be happy for him, he really should, and he would, he  _will_. Just not right now. Right now he's gonna light some candles, draw himself a bath, and sulk. Sulk, and then force himself to go about his day like everything was great. That was another part of Harry's new attitude, no more locking himself up in the house until someone came to get him. 

He thought about that episode of Friends where Chandler was trying to quit smoking, and he went to bed listening to that self-help tape. He wished he had one to quit Zayn. He'd just have to tell himself that he was a strong, confident man. A strong, confident man who didn't need the help of others to get out of bed just cause his love life was a disaster. With that in mind, Harry went to bed, slowly drifting off to sleep, definitely  _not_  dreaming about Zayn and a mysterious blonde.

 

Next day Harry woke up early for his morning yoga, drank his tea, and ate his breakfast. He got dressed, and went to work. He checked his phone a few times. There were no messages from Zayn, which Harry supposes it was probably for the best. He was most certainly being gracious, and letting Harry get away with almost embarrassing himself by professing his love when he did not return the feeling. At work, Harry was swamped with things to do, another thing he was grateful for. That way he could just let his mind go onto auto-pilot, and let the hours pass by. 

 

Just as anticipated, Harry's day went by in a blur, he even ended up staying after hours at the gallery. He only realized how late it was when his stomach started complaining about him missing dinner time. So he closed everything up, and apologized to his assistant for having him working till late by taking him out to grab something to eat. It was another nice distraction, until they parted ways.

Harry got into a cab, spending the ride thinking about how he should really try and learn how to drive on the wrong side of the road so he could get a car. Then he started thinking about which type of car would he get (maybe he should get a motorcycle? It'd be a great way to dodge traffic), only to be pulled away from his musings by the cab driver telling him they'd reached their destination. Harry paid him, and got out of the cab, walking towards his building, so distracted by not being able to find his key, that he didn't even notice the Zayn-shaped shadow by his building's door, not until Zayn was right by his side.

"Hey Haz," he said, startling Harry enough to make him drop his keys on the ground.

"Zayn!" Harry said, eyes wide, then cleared his throat, trying for nonchalant, "I mean, hey," he said, crouching to pick the keys, then standing back up, focusing on opening the front door.

"Can I come up?"

"Uh, sure, yeah, just let me--" he rammed the key in the lock, and finally opened it up, "there."

Harry walked in first, holding on to his keys for dear life, and pressed the elevator button. They waited for it side by side, in silence. The ride up to Harry's floor was a silent one was well. Harry's mind was racing, trying to think of things Zayn might have to say to him. It would probably be easier to get a reading of him if Harry had the courage to sneak a glance at his direction, but he couldn't. He kept his eyes glued to the floor. 

They got into Harry's apartment still in silence. Harry hung his bag and his coat by the door. Zayn did the same to his jacket. 

"Um. Do you want anything to drink?" Harry asked, trying to post-pone whatever awkward conversation that was about to come his way, but Zayn just shook his head when Harry finally looked up at him.

"So. About last night," Zayn started, then it was Harry's turn to shake his head.

"No, seriously, we don't need to talk about that, really, can we please forget it?"

"I came here to tell you something, so I'm gonna say it, then we can forget it if you still want to." Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair, "What you saw last night-"

"Zayn-" Harry tried to interrupt.

"The guy that was there--"

"You don't have to say anything-"

Then Zayn threw his arms up in exasperation, and launched for Harry, grabbing his face in both hands, and pulling him down, pressing their lips together. It wasn't even a proper kiss, it was just so Harry wouldn't be able to speak anymore, and it worked quite well, because Harry was, once again, stunned.

"The guy in my apartment was a  _friend_ ," he said against Harry's lips, still close enough to kiss him again if Harry tried to say something, the words slowly slipping from his lips as if he were talking to a child, just to make sure Harry would understand. "Just a friend, because for some stupid reason, I can't think of anyone other than  _you_. And I don't know what it is that you saw that made you run away, but I'm sure it was not what you thought it was." Zayn paused, waiting for Harry to say something.

Harry blinked a couple of times.

"He was... Getting dressed," Harry said, and Zayn crooked an eyebrow, trying to remember what Harry was talking about, then snorted, rolling his eyes.

"We were painting. He didn't want to get paint on his shirt, so he took it off, then he thought we were going to eat, so he put it back on. Really, Bill is as straight as they come, swear it," Zayn said, loosening his hold on Harry's face, but not letting go.

"So you guys weren't... doing anything?"

"No. Nothing sexual, anyway."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Zayn slowly let go of Harry's face, putting his hands in his pockets.

"So you still like me?"

"Yeah, I do," Zayn shrugged, but Harry could tell he got a bit tense by the way his shoulders didn't fully relax.

"That's hm. That's good. Cause hm. I--I like you too," Harry said, his voice more of a whisper than anything.

"What's that? Couldn't hear you," Zayn asked. Harry rolled his eyes as he looked at Zayn, he could hear the teasing dripping from his voice. He had heard Harry perfectly, the fucker. Still, Harry couldn't stop himself from grinning.

"I said I like you too," he repeated, louder this time, looking straight into Zayn's eyes, his grin growing as he took in the delighted glint in Zayn's eyes.

"Yeah?" Zayn teased, getting closer to Harry again. Harry took a deep breath, licking his lips unconsciously, and nodded, eyes dancing across Zayn's face, till they settled on Zayn's lips. "Good. I'm gonna kiss you now," he said, holding on to Harry's waist, and pressing their bodies together. 

And Harry couldn't help but think it was such a cliche, but it was like everything slowed down, those few seconds they took just looking at each other before they finally,  _finally_  kissed dragging on for what it felt like hours. It shouldn't be like this, they had kissed countless times before, but somehow it felt like the first, because it was. It was the first kiss with real intent, with emotion, where both of them knew where they stood, and it would mean.

Harry ran his hands up Zayn's chest, moving up all the way to the back of Zayn's neck, moving his fingers through his hair. It was a nice soft kiss at first, just their lips moving together, and that alone was enough to make Harry's heart beat fast. Then Harry felt Zayn tighten his grasp on his waist, Zayn's tongue tracing his lips, and Harry couldn't hold back the moan erupting from his lips.

Zayn moved them, and Harry just followed, shit, he'd follow Zayn to hell and back if Zayn asked him to, he kept moving them till Harry was pressed up against the wall, and Zayn started kissing down his neck, biting every inch of skin he could find.

"You want this, right, Haz? Cause I'm not doing friends with benefits anymore," Zayn whispered against his neck, his warm breath prickling Harry's skin, his fingers tugging at Harry's shirt.

Harry nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah, yeah, I want it. I'm gonna date the shit out of you, promise," he said, feeling Zayn's chuckle vibrating across his body.

"Good," he said, dropping to his knees with a grace Harry would never be able to muster, clever fingers working the buttons of Harry's trousers. Everything suddenly was happening so fast, Harry's head was spinning, like it always seemed to be when Zayn was concerned, so it took him a few seconds to understand what was going on.

"Wait, wait," he said, trying to pull Zayn back up by his shoulders, but he wouldn't budge, too busy with pulling Harry's trousers down with his briefs " _Zayn._ "

"What?" Zayn asked, curling his fingers around Harry's length, and looking up at him. He actually looked annoyed at Harry for making him stop, and for a brief second, Harry almost forgot what he was trying to say, all of his blood rushing from his head.

"We--too fast--wanna do this right," Harry panted, now reduced to a few keywords, as Zayn started to move his hand up and down his cock. Zayn looked at him for a beat, rolled his eyes, then leaned in, mouthing at the head of Harry's cock before sinking  _down_. Harry moaned and sagged against the wall, trying to find something to hold on to, "Okay, just--just for tonight. Tomorrow... we'll do this right tomorrow," Harry gasped. Zayn smirking around him was the last thing he saw before giving in and closing his eyes.

 

Harry woke up to the sound of his alarm clock, and a grunting Zayn beside him. He smiled, and turned off the alarm, turning so he was laying on his side. Zayn looked as beautiful as he always did, his hair soft around his face, breathing going back to normal once the noise stopped. Harry ran a hand through Zayn's hair, and gave him a soft peck on the lips before slipping out of bed as quietly as he could.

He smiled throughout all of his yoga routine, thinking about the night before, about everything they said to each other, and about all the pretty noises he pulled from Zayn once they stopped talking. They still hadn't had actual sex, because Harry really was going to try and take things slow, but there were a lot of other things they could do before that. He showered once he was done with yoga, and got dressed for work. It was such a shame, having to leave Zayn behind, Harry almost called in sick. 

Harry was in the kitchen drinking his tea, wondering if he could get away with waking Zayn up for a goodbye kiss, when Zayn beat him to it and showed up wearing one of Harry's jumpers, all sleepy eyed and soft smiles.

"Morning," he said, smile slowly growing bigger to match Harry's grin. Harry was sure Louis would throw up if he could see them right now. 

"Good morning," Harry said back, still grinning. "I made you coffee," he said, pointing towards the coffee maker with the hand that was holding his tea cup.

"Thank you."

Zayn opened one of the cabinets and picked out a mug, pouring himself some coffee. He took a sip, almost sighing at the taste, and Harry could only stare, and smile. It all felt so domestic, Zayn in his kitchen, wearing his clothes. Harry knew he wanted Zayn, he knew he wanted them to be together, but only now it hit him how badly he wanted it. Who was he trying to kid with trying to keep things with no strings attached, Harry wasn't meant for that. He liked having someone to call his own, and to belong to someone else. He liked having someone to take care of, to cook for, someone to hold at night. 

"What?" Zayn asked when he noticed Harry staring.

Harry chuckled, and shook his head. "Nothing. You look good in my clothes," he said, earning himself a snort from Zayn.

"You gonna turn into a sap on me, Styles?" he teased, walking towards Harry.

"I've always been a sap, you just never dated me to know," Harry reached out to him, pulling Zayn close by the hem of his jumper.

Zayn grinned, "Guess I'll figure that out now, won't I?"

Harry grinned back, and nodded, pressing his lips to Zayn's. They kissed slowly, lazily, Zayn's fingers curled into Harry's hair, stroking the ends of it carelessly, as Harry's own found its way to Zayn's back, sneaking beneath his jumper to feel his skin. They pulled apart after awhile, their breathing a little heavier than before.

"I need to get to work. You can go back to bed if you want, just lock up when you leave, yeah?" Harry said, giving him one last soft kiss. Zayn could lock up after himself with Harry's spare key. Hell, it was never really  _his_  spare key, Zayn was the only one who used it to sneak in, it might as well have always been his key. 

"Sure," Zayn said, with a soft smile on his face. Harry wondered if he was thinking the same thing Harry was, about the key, and about the domesticity of it all. Harry hoped he was.

Harry took one last sip from his tea, and left the mug by the sink, "You free tonight?"

"Yeah, why?" Zayn asked with a blank expression, but his tone and the glint in his eyes made it clear that he knew where Harry was going with this.

"Gotta take you out on our first date, don't I?"

Zayn grinned from where he was looking at Harry, from behind his coffee mug, and Harry grinned right back. He grinned as he walked out the door, and all the way down to the streets.

 

For their first date Harry took Zayn out for dinner. Nowhere too fancy, it'd feel weird to do that, they knew each other so well already, Harry didn't need to try and impress Zayn. So they just had dinner together at one of their favorite restaurants, they talked about their day, and exchanged touches over the table. Harry was absolutely giddy with joy. Everything felt so familiar, and yet so new. Touching Zayn before felt almost like second nature, he barely even noticed he was reaching out to him until he felt Zayn's skin under his fingers. But now, now it was different. His touches were still just as welcomed, but Harry did it with intent, did it because he could, because he couldn't help but to feel that spark whenever they touched, and it was fucking addicting.

They walked home holding hands, fingers intertwined, Zayn's thumb drawing circles over Harry's skin, stopping here and there to kiss, giggling into each others mouths. It was ridiculous, really, Harry would've thrown cold water at themselves if he was watching this from an outsider's perspective. But being that he wasn't, he didn't care. Let them watch, let them think they're silly, who cares.

When they reached Zayn's building, Zayn started trying to drag Harry inside, but Harry just pulled back, shaking his head and smiling.

"Taking it slow, remember?" He said to a confused Zayn.

Zayn rolled his eyes fondly, "Are you really serious?"

"Yep," Harry nodded, tugging Zayn close, "Now you're gonna give me my goodnight kiss, and I'll be on my merry way."

"You're ridiculous," Zayn said, but gave in easily enough, throwing his arms around Harry's shoulder.

Harry smiled at him, wrapping his arms around Zayn's middle, "Did you tell the guys yet?"

"Nope. But we're meeting them for drinks tomorrow night, we'll tell them then."

"Can't wait," Harry said with an eye-roll. He could only imagine the amount of teasing from Niall and Louis they'd go through.

Zayn laughed, and nodded, "Yeah. We're good, though, right? This was good."

"We're the best," Harry nodded, and he was sure he was practically beaming. Zayn grinned, and tightened his arms around Harry, pressing their lips together. It was supposed to be a simple goodnight kiss, but Zayn was probably still trying to take Harry upstairs, if the way he was licking into his mouth was any indication. When Harry forced himself to pull away, his cheeks were burning hot and insides had turned to mush. "Ok, goodnight," he breathed out. Zayn shook his head, trying to pull Harry in again, and Harry laughed, "Let me go, you menace!"

"You're so mean, you know that?" Zayn said, finally giving up.

"It's gonna be worth it, promise."

"Yeah, yeah, goodnight," Zayn rolled his eyes, but there was nothing but fond in his face still.

"Night, babe," Harry gave him a quick peck on the lips, and let him go, walking away. He thought about going for cool, walking backwards while looking at Zayn, but knowing himself, he'd probably just trip over a nick on the sidewalk and break something. So Harry just put his hands in his coat pockets, and turned away. He couldn't stop himself from  giving one last look over his shoulder, finding Zayn still by the door, smiling at him. 

It took every once of willpower in him not to run back, taking it slow be damned. He didn't, though, just forced himself to put on foot in front of the other until he found himself a cab.

 

Their next night out was close to a nightmare, as predicted. Louis and Niall greeted them with knowing smiles, even Liam was looking them funny. Louis and Niall would coo at them when they whispered something to each other, and either pretended to throw up, or made smooch noises at them when they kissed. But that, Harry could handle.What he couldn't handle was the way Zayn kept inching his hand up Harry's leg as the night went by. Harry would glare at him, and Zayn would just smile at him sweetly, pressing the tips of his fingers on the inside of Harry's thigh.

That quickly became a habit of Zayn's, to tease Harry in public as much as he could, so that when they were alone, Harry would be pliant and desperate. Still, Harry managed to stay strong for a whole month.

It was a blissful month, in Harry's opinion, even though boyfriend-Zayn wasn't that much different than best friend-Zayn (which probably is another evidence that Zayn had been at least  _in like_  with Harry for a long time now). The two Zayn's were pretty much the same, there was just a lot more snogging, snuggling, handjobs and blowjobs involved. They'd meet each other for lunch, had sleepovers, and always ended up curled around each other on the couch when they had a night in with the guys, watching as Louis found new ways to mess with a passed out Liam, and a drunken Niall danced about in his underwear while eating a bag of chips (no matter how their night started, it would always end up like this).

But yeah, after an entire month, Harry was ready. Sometimes it felt so surreal to have Zayn by his side, that Harry had waited this long to make sure that what they had wasn't going to go away over night. He knew there was no way he could go back from sleeping with Zayn, if in the end, things didn't work out, like, he'd be fucked forever. If the whole Ben incident had taught him anything, is that he can't not get attached after sex, and he already liked Zayn  _so much_. So yeah, he'd be fucked. And, as corny as it sounds, Harry wanted their first time to be special. 

Which is why, of course, when it actually happened, Harry had no time to prepare for it at all. 

They were in Zayn's bed, cuddling after having breakfast together, while watching Friends. It should've been a regular sunday morning, if Zayn hadn't started to draw lazy circles over Harry's stomach with his fingertips, and to nibble on Harry's neck. He knew what he was doing, they had been doing this dance long enough for him to know all of Harry's weak spots. 

So when he tightened his fingers around Harry's waist, and pulled him closer, Harry went easily, bearing his neck for him, feeling Zayn smirk against his skin. He nibbled and kissed all the way to Harry's mouth, grinning as he took Harry's lip between his teeth and sucked on it. Harry grinned back, curling his fingers in Zayn's hair, and tugging on it, pulling him in for a proper kiss. 

It didn't take too long for them to deepen it, Zayn licking into Harry's mouth slow and filthy at the same time, making Harry moan into the kiss and press their bodies together even further. Zayn slowly rolled them over, getting Harry on his back, settling on top of him, between his legs. He started rolling their hips together till they were both hard, Harry's hands on his hips, trying to get him as close as he could, to get more friction.

Then Zayn was moving down Harry's body, his tongue darting out to circle Harry's nipple, making Harry hiss, and his back arch off the bed.

"You're a fucking menace, you know that?" Harry gasped, running his fingers through Zayn's hair. Zayn used his teeth to tug on Harry's other nipple, smirking around it, and looking up at Harry.

"We've been so good, though, it's been a whole month," he said, moving further down, sucking and biting across Harry's stomach.

"You noticed?"

Zayn hummed, curling his fingers under Harry's sweatpants, slowly tugging it down, "A month and 3 days, actually, since that night," he said, kissing just under Harry's belly button, and Harry seriously felt butterflies in his stomach. It was ridiculous. It was like he was a fucking teenager again. He just had to pull Zayn up again to kiss him, hard, pouring everything he had in it. Zayn kissed him back just as hard and heartfelt.

Harry started pushing Zayn's pants down as far as he could, till Zayn got with the program, grinning against Harry's lips, the same grin that could get Harry to his knees in a second. They kissed and kissed, and kissed. They kissed as they got undressed, and kissed as Zayn opened up Harry with slick fingers, until Harry couldn't anymore, couldn't think, Zayn reducing him to a mess of "more", and "please", and " _Zayn_ ".

Zayn pulled away when it all got too much for them, when they couldn't wait any longer, and sat back between Harry's legs. Harry stroked himself slowly as he watched Zayn roll a condom on and slick himself up, just to relieve some of the pressure. Then Zayn reached out to him, pulling Harry by the hand, making him straddle his hips. He curled a hand over Harry's hip, and held himself in place with the other, "Come on, Hazza. Take your time," he breathed out, looking down at where their bodies met, as Harry slowly sunk down on him.

Harry kept his hands on Zayn's shoulders for balance, biting down on his lower lip as he felt Zayn stretch him even further, filling him up. "Fuck," Harry gasped as Zayn bottomed out, wrapping his arms around Zayn's shoulders, letting his head hang. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down, and rolled his hips, getting used to the stretch, as Zayn's hands moved up and down his back. 

"Doing so good, babe," Zayn said, moving his hands back down to Harry's hips, squeezing, just holding on to it, letting Harry set the pace, breathing hard as Harry began to move, rolling his hips rather than moving up and down at first. It all felt so perfect, being wrapped around Zayn, having him inside, the way his fingers were starting to dig into the meat of his hips, the way his breath felt against Harry's neck. Harry couldn't help but to want more, to make Zayn feel as good as he was making Harry feel, to chase that fire starting to burn inside him.

Harry began to pick up the pace, lifting himself up, then dropping down, letting out sounds he couldn't keep down even if he tried. Zayn's hands moved down to his cheeks, squeezing, helping Harry move, as Harry's fingers gripped Zayn's shoulders, both of them panting now, whispering words into each others mouths, lips touching but barely kissing, both of them too out of it to do anything but to move together.

Zayn tangled his fingers in Harry's messy hair, tugging on it, "Look at me," he said, and Harry did, and shit. Zayn had such beautiful eyes. Harry wondered if there even was a word to describe its color. There should be, someone should create a word for it; then Zayn was grinning, kissing Harry softly on the lips, and whispering "I love you", and maybe Harry really was a sap, because there's nothing Zayn could've said that would've made Harry come so fast and so hard, as those three words, his vision going blank, his whole body shuddering as he came without even touching himself once.

He might have heard Zayn gasp an "oh, fuck", but he wasn't sure, everything was hazy inside his head as he rode out his orgasm, as Zayn fucked him through it. He felt Zayn's fingers digging into his side and hair, and then he was following Harry right off the edge, eyes shut tight, and a groan escaping his lips.

They were both breathing hard, hearts beating so fast, as they clung to each other for god knows how long, just touching each other lazily, bringing themselves down. Zayn maneuvered them slowly, so Harry was on his back again, useless as ever, and pulled out carefully, tossing the condom off in the bin. He picked up a shirt that was laying around, and cleaned Harry up, following every touch of his shirt with a kiss on Harry's skin, before settling down by his side, looking at him with a fond smile.

"You ok? Did I break you?" he teased, and Harry laughed, nodding.

"Yeah," he said, running a hand through his hair, and looking up at Zayn, "I'm fucked. Completely fucked, you've ruined me for everyone else."

"That's good. I don't plan on letting you go anywhere anytime soon," Zayn smiled, giving Harry a quick peck on the lips, before laying fully on his back, staring at the ceiling in silence for a few seconds. And then, "Did you come cuz I told you I love you?" he asked, looking at Harry again, holding back a laugh, his tone filled with amusement, and fondness, and teasing.

"Oh, shut up," Harry laughed, smacking him lightly on the chest, and hiding his face on the pillow.

Zayn laughed too, "No, really, did you?" 

"Maybe..."

Zayn giggled, laying back on his side, throwing an arm around Harry, "If I had known you'd get that hyped up I would've said it sooner," he said, nosing at Harry's neck until Harry pulled away to look at him.

"You're a twat. But I love you too. Y'know. In case you were wondering," Harry said, trying to hold back a smile, and failing spectacularly, specially when he saw the grin blooming on Zayn's face. Harry was _so_ utterly, and deliciously fucked for this man.

 

And all things considered, all that's happened, and everything he'd learned, he wouldn't have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is it! i'll add an epilogue as soon as i can, but i hope you guys enjoyed it so far :) please please let me know what you think!


	5. Teacher's notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow guys, 200 kudos! i've never gotten this many before, so i'm beyond excited haha but well, all good things come to an end, and this is the final chapter. just wanted to show you guys zayn's side of the story, and give them some closure, so here it is, hope you guys will enjoy it :)

When Zayn first met Harry, it was nothing out of the ordinary, really. No fireworks, no world shifting on its axis, nothing. He was looking for someone to take home, someone fun, and he looked fun enough. Tight jeans, sheer shirt, crazy curly hair, nice long legs, cute lil' ass, good. Then he opened his mouth, and Zayn was definitely not expecting his voice to be that deep, and that accent, woah.

And then. Then... Girlfriend. Such a pity. Oh well. Zayn has had his fair share of straight guys who were fun when the lights were out, only to go on a crazy straight guilt trip when daylight came around. Zayn was pretty much certain he'd never see that quirky Harry person again, as he watched him leave the bar.

Then some time went by, time Zayn spent working on his art, working real hard, going missing for a couple of weeks even, because he'd gotten a spot at an art show, so he had to come up with something amazing. It paid off, he was actually satisfied with his results, when show night came around. He had been talking to Niall, Louis, and Liam, when he turned around, and there he was, Harry, looking even better than the first time they saw each other.

He waited for a bit, then went after Harry, because--well, why not? He had been nice enough the first time, he looked good, they were at the same place, so. It's funny, that Harry would be looking at his painting, of all the others that were displayed there that night, when they found each other again. Harry was just as nice as the first time they talked, Zayn almost forgot the guys were there too. Which is how they ended up exchanging numbers. 

Zayn should've known, he really should. He was smarter than that. But the more they saw each other, the more he liked Harry. It was just friendly fun at first, until it wasn't, until it fucking hit him like a truck,  _HEY, you fell for one of your best friends!_ Harry had found a way to twist himself into Zayn's life like he'd been there forever, Zayn didn't even remember what it was like not to talk to him everyday, not to get his stupid texts, or hear his silly jokes.

Zayn first realized it when Lyla broke up with him. Harry had gone missing, because that's what he does, apparently, locks himself up and tries to avoid the entire world, when he's sad, and it's funny, how you can get used to something without even noticing, only realizing how much you cherish it when it's gone. Like your phone. You're so used to keeping it close, keeping it in your pocket, being able to talk to people whenever you want. Then you lose it somewhere, or it gets stolen, and it's like... what do you do without it? How do you check your e-mails, your messages, check the time when you're out on the streets, just, how?

That's kind of like how Zayn felt when Harry decided to hide, to turn off his phone. And that's when Zayn found out how he truly felt for him. It freaked him out at first, because oh fuck, why? He'd done this shit before, and it never turned out okay. Straight guys were straight, and yeah, sometimes fucking around with another guy was fun, when they were drunk, and no one knew about it, but they never stayed for too long, always so ashamed someone would find out.

And it was probably stupid, or Zayn simply had no sense of self preservation, because he still went after Harry anyway. He kept telling himself that it would go away, fade out, he just had to give it time. So he went to Harry's place, cuddled him when Harry told him what had happened, and helped him get back on his feet, trying very hard to keep himself from getting hopeful; it wasn't because Harry was now alone, that he'd suddenly have a change of heart, or a sexuality crisis.

Except Harry did have a sexuality crisis, and Zayn had to bite his tongue to stop himself from making a move, because he didn't  _really_  believe in Harry, when he told Zayn he wanted to give men a try. Zayn had put so much time and effort into convincing himself that Harry was unattainable, he didn't want to get his hopes up just to be shot down when Harry got cold feet. 

But then they went out, and there Harry was, all pressed up against some random guy. Zayn's heart sunk to his stomach when he saw them together. Shit. He did not see that coming, and he definitely didn't want to see what they were doing. Zayn considered leaving, going home, but that might have looked a bit suspicious, so he forced himself to stay, suddenly focusing very hard on whatever game the guys were playing.

Still, when they left, Zayn was forced to listen every single detail of what happened between Harry and that guy,  _Ben_. He didn't say anything until they were back at Harry's place, and Harry noticed how quiet he'd been.

"I'd probably go for you, y'know?" Harry said, and Zayn just had to snort.  _Fuck my life_ , Zayn thought, and still, he had to know,

 "Why didn't you, then?"

"You didn't ask."

Well, fuck. Zayn had to leave. He had to leave, and try to forget he let that chance slip by because he hadn't taken Harry seriously. He should have known, Harry was a quirky little thing, of course he'd give it a go if he said he would. So he left.

 

A few weeks went by, and Harry still hung out with him all the time, and Ben was never around, never went out with Harry and all of them, so it was easy for Zayn to forget he existed. He did, sometimes, only to be reminded by Harry asking questions, or advice. And because Zayn was probably a masochist, he always listened, always gave Harry his opinion, and pretended he didn't feel like throwing himself out the window.

"So, I was thinking, I think it's time I sucked Ben's cock," is how Harry started off, and Zayn could only blink.  _How the fuck did my life come to this?_

Seriously, fuck Ben. "Well, good for you. And for Ben, of course," is what he said instead. 

"Yeah. But see, here's the thing: I don't know how to do it." 

Harry looked nervous, insecure, and Zayn had no idea why. "I see."

"So I was thinking maybe you could like, teach me?"

Zayn almost choked. Was Harry seriously on his couch, asking Zayn to suck him off? Zayn had no idea what to believe in anymore, but not taking Harry seriously had already bit him in the ass before, so he just had to ask.

"Harry, if you wanted me to suck you off, you could at least have bought me dinner, what kind of guy do you think I am?" That's good. Playful, not desperate, good.

"No, I was thinking that like, maybe I could, you know, do it to you, and like, you could give me pointers or something?"

OH. 

Zayn was surprised, to say the least. Harry had to be kidding, he just had to, but then Harry didn't say anything else, so,

"Tell me again, how did we go from you being straight, to you asking me to suck my dick?"

Then Harry got upset, got up, and Zayn just had to laugh, because fate, or whatever this was, apparently thought it would be fun to fuck with his head. Still, it looked like Harry was about to leave, and this wasn't good.

"No, Harry, come on, are you serious about this?"

"Yes, m'bloody serious, Zayn! God only knows how many people Ben's been with, I don't wanna embarrass myself, ok?"

This time Zayn really had to laugh, because of course blowjobs would be mentioned in one second, then Ben would be in the other. But Zayn still couldn't stop himself from smiling, because Harry was the most adorable creature ever. So Zayn was a masochist for sure, and really pathetic, because he was now leading Harry back to the couch. Yeah, he'd be Harry's test-drive if he wanted, he'd take whatever he could get.

Kissing Harry was amazing. Heavenly, even. God, Zayn was so fucked. Harry's mouth was so soft, his plush lips fitting perfectly against his own. Then Harry's tongue found its way into Zayn's mouth, and it got even better. Harry was a great kisser, Zayn just couldn't get enough. His hands were everywhere he could find, then Harry was on his lap, and Zayn was certain he was going to explode. 

He didn't explode then, and it took everything in him to keep it together when Harry knelt between his legs, looking up at him with red lips and big eyes. Actually, no, it took everything in him to keep it together when Harry finally took him into his mouth, his perfect, perfect mouth. He started babbling soon enough, and it was weird, because yeah, Zayn always had a bit of a filthy mouth in bed, he knew it, but this time it was like he just  _couldn't stop_ , Harry's mouth so soft, the tight, wet heat too good. Not to mention that knowing he was the first one to get Harry like this was almost enough for him to feel like he was high.

Harry looked fucking sinful like that, on his knees, letting Zayn do as he pleased, just taking it and fucking moaning around him like he was the one actually getting head. Zayn was so mesmerized by the sight that he didn't even notice close he was until it was right there, rippling through him, spilling out of him and onto Harry's mouth.

"Argh, cheers, mate, really."

"Sorry, bro, it sneaked up on me." Zayn wasn't sorry at all. He couldn't wait to do it again, on purpose next time, so he'd watch as he made a mess out of Harry. If there was a next time, that is. He hoped there would be. He got Harry off as well later, watching as Harry fucked into his fist, and wondering if he'd ever get the chance to feel Harry fuck into  _him_. He almost got hard again at the thought. 

Zayn fell asleep quickly that night, with Harry's warm body next to him, and when he woke up with Harry between his legs the next morning, Zayn thought  _well, how fucking bad can this be?_

 

It was bad. It was really fucking bad, because now that Zayn knew how Harry felt beneath him, how he tasted, how pretty he looked when he came, it was all he could think about. Zayn was going a bit mad with it, just had to do something to let out all this pent-up energy, so he took some time off to paint. It always helped him clear his mind, a few days just by himself and his blank canvases, his best pieces were made when he was stressed out like this. 

He didn't answer any of Harry's texts, kicked out everyone who came around to see him, and just painted away, until he felt calm again, more like himself. And yet, the first person he wanted to see when he was done, was Harry. He wasn't anxious anymore, but he did miss Harry a lot, so there's that. He let himself in using Harry's spare key, and climbed in bed with him, feeling calmer once he heard Harry's voice, and felt Harry curl up against him.

They found themselves all tangled up again the next day, after breakfast, watching Friends, and all Zayn could think was how easily he could get used to this. To spending his weekends in bed with Harry, tracing patterns over his skin, as Harry petted his hair (even though Zayn was usually the one doing the petting). He could also get used to the way Harry's skin felt against his lips, how Harry breathed in deeply at the contact. 

When they kissed again, it was as good as the last time, everything felt good and perfect, up until the time Zayn spotted the hickey on Harry's neck. Jealousy coursed through him, and it was irrational, he knew, Harry didn't owe anything to him, they were barely a thing, but Zayn felt it nonetheless, ugly and consuming. He had to know what had happened, how Ben touched him, if Harry liked it; he had to know, just had to, and he had to be better. He had to be everything Harry thought about, had to make Harry wish he did whatever it is that he'd done with Ben, with Zayn first.

So he pulled out every trick he knew, paid attention to Harry's reactions, and kept doing whatever he seemed to like the most over and over, and Harry did so good, opened right up for him, moaned so prettily, and came so hard, Zayn almost came with him. But no, what really made him come was rutting against Harry's lovely arse, and Harry saying Zayn should fuck him. Because seriously, Zayn had spent the last 30 minutes with his fingers inside Harry, and he knew how fucking  _good_  Harry would feel around his cock, tight and hot and perfect, and to know Harry wanted him just as much, wanted Zayn to be his first, was too much. 

And yet, weeks went by, and they didn't talk about it again. They still fooled around all the time, still hung out constantly, and Harry asked him if he didn't mind that he was still going out with Ben throughout all of this. Zayn did, of course, but he didn't want it to stop, he was too far gone already. The boys all knew about it, about what they'd been doing, Zayn told them one night after Harry left to spend Christmas with his family and Zayn was moody from missing him.

They all warned him, told him it was probably a bad idea, not because Harry wasn't good for him, or they weren't good together, but because Zayn seemed to be a lot more invested in this than Harry, and that was never a good sign. Zayn knew this too, he knew that they should both be on the same page, but he was scared that if he mentioned his real feelings to Harry, it would make him run away.

So he kept it to himself, and begged the guys not to tell Harry anything, just let them be, let Zayn figure it all out. Maybe a few days away would do him good. The only problem was that Zayn was so fucking used to having Harry around, there was no way he'd just stop thinking about him. Zayn found himself listening to the bands Harry liked, and when he got around to painting, his canvases were filled with soft shades of green. 

When the holidays were over, Zayn was expecting Harry to come around, to show up, whatever, he couldn't fucking wait to get his hands on him, that one call on New Year's Eve (the one Lyla interrupted to suck Harry's face off) wasn't enough to make Zayn miss Harry any less. But then he didn't. Zayn was certain he had already flown back, so why the fuck hadn't he come around already?

And then he found out. Ben. Fucking Ben, because of course it was his fault. Zayn should've said something, should've warned Harry he thought something was off about the way Ben handled things, but Harry didn't seem to be bothered by it, never asked for Zayn's opinion on that, so. He was torn, really, between feeling bad for what happened to Harry, and fucking jumping for joy, because  _yes_ , now Harry was completely single, and they could move forward, together, hopefully.

 

Zayn understood when Harry decided to give it a break on what they had, because ok, even though Harry and Ben weren't together officially, the betrayal still hurt, and there was nothing wrong with Harry wanting some time off to regroup or whatever. Zayn still wanted and loved Harry just as much, and he could tell Harry wanted him too, but he was patient, determined to give Harry his time and space.

He was there for Harry, got him out of the house, helped him pick out stuff for his new place, and it was good, they had fun, but then a couple of months went by, and Harry hadn't given him any indication that he wanted to move things along anytime soon. Zayn started to lose hope. Maybe Harry was done with him for good. Thinking about it hurt, but being around Harry and just being friends was starting to hurt even more. 

So after a lot of thinking, Zayn decided the best thing for him was to go away for awhile, try to quit Harry cold turkey. And he was doing a good job, up until the night Harry showed up at his place out of the blue, told him he knew Zayn liked him, and bolted. Like, what the actual fuck? Zayn was sure Harry majored in fucking with his head, because honestly.

He needed to sort this out once and for all.

Now, this could've had two different endings, one: Harry could've gone to Zayn's place that night to tell Zayn he knew Zayn liked him, and to let him down gently, or two: Harry could actually have gone there to tell Zayn he felt the same way. Zayn was hoping for the latter. He had never wanted anything as much as he wanted this, wanted _them_.

And he finally got it.

Zayn finally fucking got it, Harry kissing him and holding on to him, and saying  _Yeah, yeah, I want it. I'm gonna date the shit out of you, promise_ , and Zayn's heart was about to burst. He'd have Harry all for himself, and it was all so fucking worth it. All the pining, and the wanting, and the sexual frustration. Well, the sexual frustration bit wasn't all that nice, specially with Harry being so keen on taking things slow.

But then a month went by, and they did it. And it was the best Zayn's has ever had. The only one Zayn would ever want. He'd never felt this close to anyone before, never thought sex could be this intense, this intimate. His head was spinning, and his heart was full, and Zayn couldn't think about anything other than  _I love you I love you I love you_. And Harry came when Zayn told him as much, taking Zayn with him after a few seconds.

 

But all of that had happened two years ago, already.

Zayn and Harry were now sharing a house, a small one, in a lowkey neighborhood. They bought a fixer-upper, because well, those were cheaper, and because they could mess around with it and turn it into the perfect place for them. They also got two dogs, and a stray cat Harry insisted on taking home with him after work one day. They had gone through a lot together, through Harry having trouble with giving Zayn space and time alone to paint when he needed, through Zayn having a jealous fit when Lyla finally came around to visit, through arguing about the messy house, and their budget, through so, so much.

And even after all of that, Zayn was just in love with Harry as before, if not more. Harry felt the same, he showed as much everyday, whether by not waking Zayn up in the morning, or making him coffee, or always carrying an extra sweater around just in case Zayn got cold when they went out. But his latest big display of affection came in the form of a ring.

A simple silver band with "Sure, why not?", Harry's first words to him carved on the inside, and Zayn laughed as he said yes to Harry's "Marry me?", and let Harry slid the ring on his finger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! :D

**Author's Note:**

> i'll try to update once every two weeks! comments and kudos are always nice! :)


End file.
